


Pray For Us Sinners

by seunggillee



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alternate Universe - College/University, Childhood Trauma, Demons, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Horror, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, M/M, Ouija, Past Abuse, Psychological Horror, Recreational Drug Use, Religion, Smut, implied rape/non con
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-05
Updated: 2018-06-28
Packaged: 2018-09-28 09:51:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 21
Words: 35,031
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10089407
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seunggillee/pseuds/seunggillee
Summary: In which a demon by the name of Jean Jacques latches onto the tortured soul of a particular Korean college student.





	1. unus

He stares blankly into a cup of lukewarm hot chocolate mixed with cheap peppermint schnapps, his fifth cup that evening. “Fuck, looks like Seung Gil’s already drunk.” Someone chirps from behind him. Another laughs, murmuring something about the Korean boy being a complete lightweight. He shivers upon feeling an arm snaking around his waist, lips pressing against his ear.

“Come on, Seung Gil.” Phichit mumbles so only he can hear. "I don't like the way Christophe is looking at you." Phichit understands that his best friend is not into this drunken holiday trip at all. The trip was supposed to be their small group of friends, but the social butterflies in the group decided to invite everyone and their mothers it seemed like. Seung Gil stands and the two make their way past numerous couples engaged in messy kisses as they make their way to the room they’re sharing. As they walk, Phichit glances out the window. It’s snowing hard outside the cabin they all rented for the month to and Seung Gil wonders if this is safe, since everyone around him is intoxicated and stupid. It wouldn’t surprise him if a few frozen bodies were found tomorrow morning.

Before long the two are sitting down on the twin beds in their room. “We could start unpacking.” Seung Gil suggests, but Phichit shakes his head.

“I thought we could do something more fun.” He smiles, his lips shifting into a subtle heart shape. Phichit tugs his duffel bag onto the bed and brings out something that resembles a board game. Immediately Seung Gil groans but Phichit lifts a finger. “Don’t give me that. Do you even know what this is?” He holds it up so the Korean man can see clearly and immediately he shakes his head. Phichit brought a ouija board, naturally.

Seung Gil brushes his fingers against the corners of the box and immediately he shakes his head. “Nope. I’m not fucking with that. I’ve heard stories, we’re not doing this.” He breathes. Phichit only laughs.

“Come on. Are you afraid? Nothing will happen. People make up stories, Seung. Nothing’s gonna happen. You think I’d put you in danger?” It’s times like these where Seung Gil wishes he hadn’t gotten involved with him. On the surface, Phichit appeared to be a perfectly normal straight A student with wide eyes and a voice that made girls hyperventilate every time he opened his mouth to answer a question. But Seung Gil knew that underneath the heartthrob exterior, Phichit was into some… dark stuff. The first time they hung out together, they got high and watched a documentary on Charles Manson (which resulted in Seung Gil having nightmares for a solid week).

He exhales. “I’ll humor you, fine. Only because I’m not in the mood to get drunk off cheap booze with loud people after driving for six hours.” He shrugs and lays down, waving a hand as a signal for Phichit to set it up.

It isn’t long before the two sit in front of the board. The candlelight is reflected in Phichit’s dark eyes and the grin on his face is enough to give Seung Gil chills. “Ready?” He purrs, glancing at him and placing two fingers upon the glass. Seung Gil says nothing and places his fingers there as well before his eyes flutter closed and Phichit begins to murmur. The Korean boy laughs immediately.

“You think this is gonna work?” He cocks an eyebrow, turning to look at Phichit as he laughs. Right at that moment, the cup moves, guiding their hands. Seung Gil tenses and his breath catches in his throat. “That’s not funny.” He whispers, the smile gone from his face. Phichit only grins, looking at the board.

“We’ve made contact.” He announces proudly, looking at his scared best friend. “Now… why don’t you ask it something? It won’t hurt you.” Seung Gil immediately shakes his head and Phichit shrugs, turning back to the board, lowering his voice before he asks for the spirit’s gender.

For a moment, nothing happens and Seung Gil laughs mockingly. “It’s fake. You were just playing with me.” He pulls his hands away and the glass immediately shifts.  
“M… A… L… E.” The board spells (or maybe Phichit spelled it, that’s what Seung Gil tells himself).

Phichit’s eyes light up and he turns to Seung Gil with a smile. “Wanna figure out his name?” He doesn’t wait for an answer. “What’s your name?” He asks. Seung Gil stands and moves to sit on the bed, covering his eyes. This is the cruelest prank Phichit’s pulled on him yet, since he knows full well that Seung Gil comes from a devout Catholic family.

“J… E… A...” Phichit reads.

“Stop! Keep his name to yourself!” He yells, shaking his head. Phichit giggles again, looking at the board as the glass moves across the letters.

Something feels cold once the name is revealed. Seung Gil feels ice running through his veins and as much as he wants to, he can’t move. “Phichit, we need to stop.” Invisible icy fingers move to press against the small of his back and he lets out a soft yelp. “It’s touching me.” He says, panic evident in his voice.

“Stop trying to scare me, Seung Gil, you're being a crybaby.” Phichit hisses before he opens his mouth to whisper another question. “How old are you?”

Seung Gil can’t close his eyes. He sees Phichit’s hands move and the glass settles on a 0. The candle flickers and the glass moves again. “0… 1… 2… 3… 4…” Phichit isn’t smiling anymore. He pulls his hands away but the glass begins to move in an infinity sign shape.

“N-no… no, stop.” Phichit breathes, gripping the glass again. But it keeps moving. The cold wraps around Seung Gil’s neck and he lets out a surprised gasp. The lamp they left on flickers out and Phichit desperately leans to blow out the candle.

The room goes black. Glass shatters. In the darkness, Seung Gil hears Phichit crying for the first time. “What the fuck was that?” He whispers.

For a moment, Phichit is silent before he speaks. “If what I read earlier is correct... I think we just summoned a demon, Seung...”

Someone shoves the door open and the remaining, unbroken lights turn on. “Shit, what the fuck happened?” Yuuri, one of Phichit’s close friends, runs inside and looks around. Chocolate brown eyes fall upon the ouija board and a trembling Phichit and he breathes a shaky sigh. “Phichit… don’t tell me you used it.”

Seung Gil only rolls off the bed, stepping outside. His head is spinning and he feels even more nauseous than he had the first time he got wasted. Slowly he makes his way to the bathroom. With shaking hands he closes the door and falls to his knees, choking and emptying the contents of his stomach.

“Pull yourself together.” Someone speaks from behind him. Seung Gil looks up and sees a tall, unfamiliar man with tanned skin and dark hair. “You’re fine, just drunk.”

“How did you get in here?” Seung Gil exhales, wiping his mouth. The door never opened and he didn’t see the stranger in there when he stumbled in in the first place. He lifts a hand to rub his eyes and when he looks up again, he’s gone. Seung Gil takes it as a hallucination. Maybe he's just paranoid, and maybe none of what happened was real. He sits back, closing his eyes.

The door opens and he turns, seeing Viktor, Yuuri's boyfriend, standing there with a cup in his hands. "You doing alright?" The other speaks, sitting down with him and smoothing his hair, offering him the glass of water. "Yuuri is with Phichit cleaning up the glass, I thought I'd come check on you... Did you two use a ouija board? That's all Phichit's managed to tell us..." Viktor continues speaking, but Seung Gil stops listening.

That man's there again, standing right behind Viktor and smiling almost mockingly. Seung Gil feels sick to his stomach again for reasons he can't explain.

"Seung Gil? Are you alright?" Viktor asks, noticing Seung Gil staring past him.

"Who is he?"

Viktor turns, his face contorting into one of confusion. "There's no one there. How much did you have to drink? Did you let Christophe pour any of them for you? Seung Gil... Seung Gil?" Viktor cups the other's cheeks, forcing Seung Gil to look at him.

But Seung Gil doesn't seem to be there.


	2. duo

"Seung Gil..." Viktor gently taps the other's cheek, lifting the water to his lips again. "Come on, drink it." The door opens and Phichit stands there, looking calmer than before but still shaken. Seung Gil's lips part and he sips the water carefully, blinking a couple times before his eyes just flutter closed. 

"Is he doing okay?" Phichit asks, moving to sit on the bathroom floor with them and pressing a hand to Seung Gil's forehead gently. The Korean looks up at him through half-hooded eyes and Viktor turns to Phichit. "...Why are you looking at me like that, Viktor?"

The Russian man exhales a frustrated sigh, ruffling Seung Gil's hair after he finishes the glass of water. "What's he on? Seung Gil doesn't act this way when he's just drunk, you know. I know you brought some stuff, what did you give him?" Viktor's obviously uncomfortable with what Seung Gil had asked him earlier. "He just mentioned someone else in the room with us and asked me who he was. It was just us. Seung Gil doesn't play around like that. Ghosts aren't real, so don't bring your ouija board stuff into this. What did you give him?" He repeats, obviously annoyed that it's their first night in the cabin and there's already trouble. 

Phichit's face is suddenly goes pale and he shakes his head. "I didn't give him anything. Let's just get him to bed, okay? We're all tired, and the whole ouija board thing probably freaked him out a little. He's a crybaby and you know it." Phichit moves to help Seung Gil up, shaking him a little once he's standing. "You're fine, right? Nothing's wrong. You're just trashed and tired and we're going to bed." 

Seung Gil registers Phichit's voice, giving a nod before smiling gratefully at Viktor and making his way back towards their shared bedroom. They sit on their beds and, after a moment of silence, Seung Gil looks up at him. "Promise me we'll never do that again." He says, burying his face in his hands, and Phichit puts his arms around him. "I promise. Now let's get ready for bed, okay?" 

The two say nothing as they drunkenly tug on their pajamas with still-shaking hands and a very paranoid Seung Gil locks the door, though he knows whatever evil they managed to summon is probably in the room with them. He shakes his head at the thought. "Demons aren't real, Phichit." He says randomly before turning off the lights and crawling into bed. "Just so you know. We have nothing to worry about."

"They are." Phichit responds. "And you should know because you've seen them." 

Seung Gil doesn't know what he's referencing and he decides not to ask. "Just... go to bed, Phichit. We'll talk about this over mimosas tomorrow."

"You want to drink again tomorrow?"

"I may not want to now, but I know I will." He shrugs before closing his eyes and willing himself to sleep. It doesn't take long for the two to doze off, the alcohol working to knock them out in what passes like mere seconds. But Seung Gil finds himself sitting up in bed no more than an hour later in a cold sweat. 

The door he knows he locked is open, and he turns to see Phichit still fast asleep next to him. Silently he rolls out of bed, tiptoeing out and down the hallway. The floors and couches are littered with drunk, sleeping bodies, the cabin is quiet save for the sounds of light breathing. He turns, and he sees him. 

Through the glass of the patio door, he notices the shape of the stranger. 

The room feels cold suddenly, but he finds himself walking towards it. For a moment their eyes meet. A hand presses against the glass slowly and he's able to read the other's lips. "Come on." And Seung Gil does as he's told. 

It's freezing outside, and snow is still coming down hard around them, reflected in dim patio lights. "How are you feeling?" The other speaks. "You were looking rough back there, I hope I didn't scare you. You know... you're going to want to sleep this off. I'm surprised you're awake." His head tilts to the side and a strange smile tugs the corners of his lips. 

"I'm not tired." The words come out quickly and he closes the door behind them. He leans against the glass and the unfamiliar man takes a step forward. "Who are you?" The Korean asks bluntly, lifting his hands on impulse. 

"You wouldn't be able to pronounce my real name." The other chuckles, icy blue eyes meeting Seung Gil's own. "I go by Jean Jacques though. Or, if that's still too complicated, you can call me JJ. And you're Seung Gil, am I right? That's what that Russian guy kept calling you while you were staring at me. Did you like what you saw?" His smile deepens. 

Seung Gil's hand reaches back for the door handle, but icy fingers tangle with his own before he can fully grasp it. "I'm not going to hurt you." JJ speaks. His voice is calm, sincere... but there's something strange behind it that Seung Gil can't place.

"Who did you come here with? Who invited you?" He whispers, his voice trembling.

"Oh, Seung Gil..." He moves closer still, their chests fully press together and JJ's nose gently bumps his. He feels JJ's breathing on his lips, and the other's free hand cups his face, forcing their eyes to meet again. "Don't you remember? You did." 

His blood runs cold and his knees get weak as the taller man stares down at him. His gaze lowers to the floor as he tries to think of something, anything that will fix this. "Oh, dear. You're scared, aren't you? I knew this would happen." JJ says almost mockingly, backing away and clutching his chest playfully. "I've got to say though, I'm not surprised. Maybe it's time for you to wake up and we can continue this later." 

"What do you mean?" Seung Gil blinks. 

He doesn't get an answer. Instead his eyes open and he finds himself in the bedroom, Phichit sitting up and rubbing his eyes. The door is closed and the lock is turned, just like they left it the night before. He turns his attention back to Phichit, confused. "Did I leave last night?" He asks, and Phichit shakes his head. 

"No, why?" He yawns. 

"No reason... I guess it was just a dream." He says quietly, pushing himself up and grabbing some clothes. "So how about those mimosas?" 

"You read my mind." The two shuffle out of their room towards the kitchen, where their friend Otabek is making some pancakes for some skinny blonde boy wearing sunglasses to protect himself from the kitchen lights. "I take it you're having a rough morning, Yurio?" Phichit chuckles, wandering over and ruffling the other's light hair. 

"Don't touch me." He grunts, looking outside. "All the snow outside makes the sun seem even brighter. I think I'm dying. You brought chocolate chips for the pancakes, right, Beka?" 

Seung Gil glances outside to look at the snow, and, on the patio door, he sees a handprint.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for the kudos and comments. They're very much appreciated!


	3. tres

"Seung Gil, damn." Otabek turns, raising an eyebrow. "What happened to your neck?" He tilts his head, placing a pancake onto Yuri's plate before stepping closer and gently tilting the Korean's head to the side. 

On his pale skin, there are deep purple and red bruises in the shape of long fingers. "What do you mean?" He mumbles, looking over at Phichit who actually looks sick. 

"I didn't know you were into that kinky stuff." Otabek chuckles softly, letting his fingers drop to his side.

"I did." They turn upon hearing Christophe's voice. The blonde is sitting up in a sleeping bag, rubbing his green eyes tiredly. "I see you're already opening the champagne and it's only ten in the morning. Winter break will be fun, it seems. If I can even remember any of it once it's over." He stands, shuffling over in a pair of boxer shorts, observing the marks on Seung Gil's neck before pouring himself a mimosa. Seung Gil follows his lead, still unsure of what his neck looks like. And from what he remembers, the man he encountered in his dreams wasn't rough with him. 

What he does recall, however, is cold wrapping around his throat as Phichit talked to whatever that thing was. He shakes his head lightly, knowing that the man he dreamed about was only a figment of his imagination, something his mind had made up out of fear. The handprint on the glass door must be from someone else. Demons aren't real, and he knows this. The only demons are people. He exhales before pouring himself a mimosa, ignoring Chris' hand moving across the small of his back. 

"What's the plan for the day?" He asks, leaning against the counter. 

"Recovering from this hangover, for me." Yuri says around a mouthful of pancake. "But I know some of the others want to go into town and be tourists. Some are going skiing. I don't know." 

Phichit looks at him. "What do you want to do? Do you want to stay home and recover, or what?" He still looks nervous. 

"Going into town might be fun." Seung Gil said. "Once this headache goes away."

"Idea." Chris raises a hand, sipping his drink. "Let's lay low for the day then go to the bars tonight, fuck some of the locals. There are some gorgeous skiers, from what I've seen." 

"So Chris' vote goes towards being a whore, as usual." Otabek says, unamused as he gets back to making more pancakes for Yurio, who's resting his head on the counter and groaning. "Yuri, I'm going to get you some aspirin or something. Whining isn't going to cure your hangover. Maybe you can take this as some sort of lesson, I told you to stop but noooo..." 

Seung Gil chuckles at the two, taking another sip of his mimosa and blinking as Chris nudges him. "You're up for bar hopping tonight, right? I'm in desperate need of someone to go with. Please, I'll even buy you a drink." 

After thinking for a while, Seung Gil gives a small smile and nods. At this point, he'll do anything to distract himself from the events that had occurred the night before. He glances back at the door and at the handprint, narrowing his eyes a bit. "What are you staring at?" Phichit asks, following Seung Gil's eyes. "Oh. There are fingerprints all over it. I know that's your pet peeve."

He grunts in response. But it's not the fingerprints. It's who they belong to. "I'm going to take a shower." He mumbles, finishing his drink and heading towards the bathroom as the others ask each other what's with him. After shutting and locking the door, he glances at the mirror and his eyes widen at the finger-shaped bruises on his neck. For a moment, all he can do is stare. He's not one to get in fights, and he remembers icy appendages wrapping around his throat as Phichit watched the planchet move across the board that night. He closes his eyes, taking a deep breath and turning the water on. As the mirror fogs up, he cautiously draws a little cross in the corner of the mirror, just in case, before he shimmies out of his clothes and steps under the water.

It doesn't feel right. There's a knot in his stomach that forms the moment he closes the shower curtain, but he ignores it. "He's not real." He mumbles to himself, pouring shampoo into his hand. 

But it doesn't help. No matter how many times he whispers this new mantra to himself, the feeling of dread continues to grow until warm tears begin to mingle with the scalding water. He sinks to the floor, inhaling and exhaling rapidly, burying his face in his hands. He knows he isn't alone. Despite the fact he locked the door, he knows someone is there with him. 

He shuts the shower off, eager to get back to his friends. He throws the curtain open, grabbing a towel and wrapping it quickly around his waist before checking the mirror. 

His cross has been wiped away and replaced with a message: "You can't get rid of me."

He stares at the message before him, the tears coming faster. He removes his towel and wipes it away, his breathing quick and shallow. Once the message is gone he unlocks the door and sprints back to his room to pull some clothes on. 

"Seung?" Phichit opens the door, obviously concerned. "Are you okay?" He takes a closer look at the Korean who is huddled up in the corner of the room, tugging a sweater on inside out and weeping hysterically. "Hey, hey... wait a minute. Your nose is bleeding. Calm down, it's the altitude, let me grab you some tissues..." 

Phichit disappears into the bathroom. "S-Seung Gil..." He calls out, and Seung Gil runs to him. 

It's on the mirror again, written in sloppy, large letters: "YOU CAN'T GET RID OF ME."


	4. quattuor

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's going to be smut in this chapter, just a warning!

"You're absolutely sure you didn't give him some bad acid and he's stuck thinking he's an orange for the rest of his life?" Yuuri and Viktor stand with Phichit, watching Seung Gil sitting on the patio with a bottle of Windex, scrubbing at the handprint on the window. "He's been acting weird all morning. He's cleaned every mirror and window here." Viktor observes. Phichit just shrugs.

"If he took something, he didn't get it from me." Phichit responds quietly. Seung Gil told him that he himself had left those messages on the mirror as a joke, but he knows that isn't Seung Gil's sense of humor. Part of him feels like something is wrong, like Seung Gil is seeing something he isn't, and the whole "haha I wrote on the mirror I sure fooled you" doesn't work with the bruises on his neck. He even remembers Seung Gil begging him to stop, saying that the spirit was touching him. But he didn't listen. He watches Seung Gil still rubbing at the same spot with wide eyes and he knows that this isn't right, but with everyone around, he isn't about to ask.

"He certainly is wifey material, isn't he?" Chris remarks as he watches Seung Gil cleaning the window, another drink in hand. "Such diligence, it's nice to see that his wrist isn't getting tired."

"Will you shut up?" Otabek sighs, looking up at Chris. "Is this what we have to look forward to this entire break? Just you being gross?"

Chris chuckles and looks back to him, smiling and lifting the glass to his lips. "Did you expect me to change, darling? I was only commenting on Seung Gil's skills with his hands. Anyway," He sets his glass down. "Who's going to the bars with me?"

"Yuuri and I will go with you, Chris." Viktor responds with a cheeky smile. Phichit also raises his hand, but Otabek and Yuri make it clear they have other plans. 

The glass door slides open and Seung Gil reenters, flopping down on the couch next to Chris. "For the love of God, Korea, if you do end up going out, let Yuri fix your hair for you. You know, in that little half-ponytail thing he does. Your hair's getting too long." Seung Gil just looks over at him, lifting his middle finger. Chris responds by taking a couch cushion and shoving it in Seung Gil's face, crawling on top of him. Seung Gil chuckles softly, wresting him off.

"Maybe we should start pre-gaming. Maybe once you're a bit more drunk, you won't see anything wrong with my hair." He stands up, heading out to the patio once more to grab a couple beers from the cooler. He blinks upon noticing JJ standing there, and he lets out a frustrated sigh. "What do you want?"

"Going out tonight, I hear? Ever considered the possibility that you might have an alcohol problem?" He leans against the window again.

Seung Gil reaches over and grabs him by the collar of his shirt, tugging him back. "Don't lean on that, I just cleaned it. And believe me, it isn't a problem at all." 

"Well, aren't you bold?" The other grins, reaching to thread his fingers through his hair. "You seem a lot less scared than you were this morning. I guess my little love notes weren't well received, judging by your crying. But hey, now you're all worn in like an old glove."

"That's because you have no power over me." Seung Gil murmurs, unamused. "You can write your creepy notes or whatever, but you can't hurt me. There's nothing you can do if I ignore you."

"Oh, is that how you think this works?" The demon's head rolls to the side and his grip on Seung Gil's hair tightens. "Interesting, I have no power over you, and yet here you are arguing with me. Just wait until you see what I'm capable of." 

Seung Gil only pushes past him, heading back inside with a couple cans of beer in his hands. "Took you long enough!" Phichit teases, taking one from him gratefully and opening it, taking a sip. "We have to lay out some ground rules before we go out though. Number one: we leave together, we come home together. If you're getting laid, you're not allowed to leave the bar we're at. Find a bathroom stall. If you must leave, send your GPS location to the group chat. Number two: Yuuri is not allowed to dance on elevated surfaces--"

"That was one time." Yuuri objects, raising a hand. 

"Once was enough. Viktor, also make sure he keeps his clothes on. Number three: If one of us gets sick, the least drunk person takes them home. Number four: Chris, no flirting with any of us. We don't fuck within our circle." 

"I'm not responsible for drunk me. I don't know him. That man has a completely different agenda." Chris shrugs, tugging the cork out of a bottle of wine before drinking straight from the bottle. "But I'll try my best."

***

It's hour three in some seedy nightclub and Yuuri's on a table grinding on Viktor, Chris is nowhere to be found, Phichit's throwing up all over a bathroom stall, and Seung Gil is taking body shots off some guy from the Czech Republic as his two Italian friends cheer them on. "You feeling okay?" He asks, sitting up after Seung Gil takes the lime wedge from his mouth. 

"I feel drunk as hell." Seung Gil responds, smiling brightly. But he's having a lot more fun than he had the night before. JJ hasn't bothered him, and with the way this foreigner's looking at him, he assumes the night will end in good things. "My name is Seung Gil, by the way. I never introduced myself, just went straight to licking salt off your chest." 

The stranger smiles back at him, wiping some lime juice from the side of Seung Gil's lip. "I'm Emil. This is Mickey and this is Sarah. We're international students from that state university over a couple blocks." He yells over the loud music, an arm hooking around Seung Gil's waist. Their noses gently bump together, eliciting a delighted, drunk laugh from Seung Gil. His mood has significantly improved now that he's intoxicated and out of the house. "Why don't we go somewhere more private? We can get to know each other better..." 

The two find themselves in a bathroom, and Seung Gil drops to his knees before they even lock themselves in a stall. Shaky hands tug at the zipper of the other's pants and before long, he has his lips wrapped around him. Long fingers tangle in messy black hair and the bathroom is silent save for breathy moans coming from the man he's pleasuring. He pushes him back against the sinks, his eyes fluttering closed as his tongue slowly traces a pulsing vein. Seung Gil looks up at him through half hooded eyes, dragging his tongue down his shaft carefully, one hand moving up his thigh as the other remains planted on the ground, helping him to keep his balance.

"You're actually pretty good at this. I'm sure you had lots of practice when you were younger, huh? That's why you gave up Catholicism, isn't it?" He hears that familiar voice (and it isn't Emil's) and he freezes, his eyes flickering upwards. Emil stares down at him expectantly, confused as to why Seung Gil isn't moving. Seung Gil smiles weakly before pulling back, swatting a string of saliva from his lips. 

"Let's skip the boring stuff." He says quickly, unbuttoning Emil's shirt for him. "Let's make this quick before someone walks in and we get kicked out." He presses a sloppy kiss to his lips before the other bends him over the sink. Emil holds him close by his hip, and his other hand presses against the mirror to keep their balance. Seung Gil looks at their reflection, chuckling a bit and resting his forehead against the cold glass. Emil maneuvers himself inside of him slowly, and a soft grunt falls from his swollen lips. Slamming his eyes shut, he curves his back to ease Emil in deeper. He breathes a shaky sigh as the other's grip on him tightens and he begins to rock himself slowly inside of him.

"I knew there was a reason I liked you." Seung Gil's eyes open upon hearing JJ whispering in his ear. Nervously he looks into the mirror, and Emil isn't there. JJ holds him close, his hips rolling slowly. Seung Gil stares, horrified, and their eyes meet in the mirror. "So much for me not being real, hm? So much for me not being able to do anything to you." He bucks his hips hard and Seung Gil lets out a soft cry.

Somewhere, far away, he hears Emil's voice as a faint echo. "I'm sorry, did I hurt you?"

Seung Gil's mind is sent into overdrive. Who is touching him? What's real, what isn't? He closes his eyes again, clutching the side of the sink. It's JJ he sees in the mirror, it's his voice he hears, but he also can still feel that Emil is there. _I can do this,_ he tells himself, _I need to keep them straight in my head_. Warm lips press against the back of his neck and he closes his eyes again.

"How do you feel?" Another echo of Emil's voice rings in Seung Gil's ears. 

"Good!" He pants. "I feel good." 

"Yes, that's right." JJ taunts, and the pace increases. Seung Gil's cheek presses against the cold glass of the mirror, his breath creating a small patch of fog that disappears and reappears with each quick, shallow breath. He closes his eyes again, and he understands that it's all real. Every part of it.

And that includes JJ.


	5. quinque

Creamy streaks leak down Seung Gil's legs as Emil pulls away, his chest heaving with each deep breath. "Can I get your number?" He asks, and Seung Gil nods, bending to pick up his phone and hand it over for Emil to put his number in. He glances at the mirror cautiously, but it's just the two of them. He knows, however, that JJ is there with them, somewhere. Emil gives Seung Gil's phone back before tugging up his pants. They exchange another kiss before Emil murmurs that he's going to find his friends, that they would meet up later that week, and soon Seung Gil is alone.

And yet he isn't. 

"That was pretty amazing, if I do say so myself." JJ says, wrapping his arms around Seung Gil's waist from behind and kissing the nape of his neck. 

"Fuck off." Seung Gil snaps, turning to face him. "How do I get rid of you? What do you want from me? Why don't you bother Phichit, he's the one who summoned you. I wanted no part in it." 

JJ laughs, reaching down to gently rub Seung Gil's hip. "That's a lot of questions, I can only answer one at a time." He pushes Seung Gil against the wall carefully, making sure he has him pinned down. "I know you view me as an inconvenience, but I think you could really learn to like me."

"You're not just an inconvenience, you're a fucking nightmare." Seung Gil shoves at him, but he doesn't budge. For a while, the demon is silent, staring down at the way the fluorescent lights cast shadows on Seung Gil's face. He bends down, brushing their lips together briefly. 

"Pick one question and I'll answer it." 

Seung Gil stares up at him for a moment, shocked by the tenderness of the kiss as he tries to remember exactly what he asked. "I have too many questions... I don't know..." He says, inhaling sharply. He did ask how to get rid of him, but with the way JJ is holding him right now, he doesn't feel like asking. He can't even think straight, and he's not sure if it's the alcohol or how JJ is looking at him. 

JJ sighs, fixing the smaller man's hair yet again. "You're scared still. I get it, I do. But what if I told you there's nothing to be afraid of?"

"I wouldn't believe you." He responds hastily as he snaps out of it, swatting JJ's hand away and trying to move past him. "I know what you are, I know how you got here, and I have every reason to be scared of you. Let me go find my friends, I want to go home, and I don't want you bothering me." Seung Gil shoves past him, storming over to the door. 

"Seung Gil?" He hears Phichit's voice from behind him and he turns, seeing his best friend sitting on the floor, his head poking out of one of the stalls. "I need to go home, will you take me?" He lifts his arms helplessly and Seung Gil heads back in to help him up. "Why were you... why were you in here so long? Did you get dicked? You were in here for such... such a long time." He slurs, chuckling and resting his head on Seung Gil's shoulder. 

"Yes. I guess you could say I got dicked, whatever that means." Seung Gil says shortly. 

"Who were you talking to?" Phichit questions, tugging on Seung Gil's sleeve and pouting. 

He turns a bit, seeing JJ standing in the mirror again expectantly. "No one. Phichit? I... look." He points directly to JJ's reflection. "Tell me something. Do you see him?"

"Who, the cute Thai guy or the grumpy Korean?" Phichit laughs at himself and playfully punches his arm. "Cause I see both of them."

"No, the third man. Right there." He points with more urgency and JJ's soft laughter rings in his ears mockingly.

"There's no one there, silly. Let's go home and finish off that tub of ice cream." Phichit tugs on his hand and they exit the bathroom, seeing Yuuri and Viktor hanging off of each other.

"The Uber should be here in 2 minutes. We have... oh. We have 2 minutes to find Chris." Yuuri looks around nervously, folding his arms across his chest. 

"No, Yuuri, we have to get Phichit home. Chris knew the rules, and he still decided to fuck off to wherever. We're leaving without him and he can find his own way back." Viktor objects, kissing Yuuri's cheek a couple times. 

As if on cue, Chris stands up from behind the bar. "Are you guys heading back to the cabin? I was... tipping the bartender in my own way-- I didn't break any rules." He hops over the counter with surprising dexterity for how drunk he is and joins the group, looking at everyone happily. "Why do you all look so serious? Did you miss me that much? Geez." 

"Uber's almost here. Let's go." Yuuri says simply, and they all file outside and into a car that is definitely too small to hold all of them.

***

The clock reads 5:41. Everyone is asleep, but Seung Gil is afraid to join them for a reason he can't quite pin down. He exhales and closes his eyes, slinging an arm over his face. The door opens and he turns, opening one eye and biting his lip upon seeing no one there. He rolls over, his back facing it. If JJ wants to be annoying, now isn't the time. But something is nagging him and he sits up, letting out a frustrated groan. 

"Just let me get some sleep." He mumbles, hoping JJ will hear. 

"You are asleep." 

His head snaps up and he finds himself face-to-face with the bane of his existence. 

"JJ... leave. You mean to tell me that even in my dreams I can't get away from you?"

"On the contrary, I can communicate with you best when you're sleeping. You have a better chance of avoiding me when you're awake, honestly. You just need to figure out how, if it bothers you so much." He shrugs, chuckling as an obviously tired Seung Gil stares at him angrily. "Okay, okay. You may not feel like you're asleep, but you are. Let's think about this. If you were awake, and you were in this room, I couldn't communicate with you at this moment. Wanna guess why?"

"Jesus, JJ, I don't know. Can you go?" Seung Gil groans, laying back down and burying his face in the pillow. He feels the mattress dip and arms wrap around him.

"No." He replies, poking Seung Gil's cheeks a couple times, pouting when the Korean doesn't respond. "Seung, open your eyes. I want to show you something cool, you won't regret it."

Seung Gil exhales, frustrated and lifts his head from the pillow, only to find that they aren't in the bedroom anymore. Instead, their bodies are intertwined in a sleeping bag, and a cool breeze ruffles JJ's hair as the other stares at him. He sits up, looking around to see the faint embers of a dying campfire, a field full of wildflowers, and dense pine trees surrounding them. He turns to JJ, obviously shocked. "You see?" JJ says, cupping Seung Gil's cheeks and squishing them. "You're asleep. This is a dream." 

"So if it's a dream, you can't hurt me here?"

"We can say that if that's what makes you happy." He grins. "But I told you, you have nothing to worry about. So drop it." He watches carefully as Seung Gil crawls out of the sleeping bag. It all feels real. He moves his hands over the grass, blinking as a ladybug crawls up his arm. He chuckles weakly as he watches it before turning to JJ, who is staring at him eagerly. "I take it you're not mad at me anymore?" 

Seung Gil only shrugs, sitting back on his knees and watching the insect. "Of course I'm still mad at you. Giving me a ladybug doesn't mean I'm suddenly all for having a demon attached to me." He sighs, looking back at him. "I'm still not sure what all of it means. You should type up a manual or something." He shrugs, timidly smiling over at him. 

JJ moves closer until he's sitting in front of Seung Gil. "What would it take to get you to not be mad at me? Are you mad because I cut into your gross bathroom sex with the guy from the Czech Republic? Cause you know, I could make up for it right now." JJ's tone catches him off guard. Usually something like that would be said in a joking manner, but JJ doesn't look like he's joking. JJ cups his chin again, as he always does when he wants Seung Gil to look at him. Their eyes meet and for a little while, Seung Gil forgets to breathe. The wind blows by again, causing Seung Gil's dark hair to fall over his eyes and the demon uses one hand to push the stray strands back before he eliminates every bit of distance between them. Their lips meet in a slow, shy kiss and, surprisingly, Seung Gil remains calm. In fact... it feels right. 

"You only kiss me when you want me to shut up." He grunts, his arms moving up and hanging loosely around a pair of broad shoulders. The comment is enough to elicit an airy laugh from the man holding him.

"Look at you, not fighting it. I told you..." JJ murmurs against Seung Gil's lips. "You were bound to trust me sooner or later."

Seung Gil doesn't respond, because the other is right. In this moment, he trusts him. And he knows he shouldn't. 


	6. sex

It all happens in some sort of a blur. He doesn't remember moving back to the sleeping bag, doesn't remember losing articles of clothing. But what he does remember is being so caught up in JJ, drowning in a pleasure he's never felt. How it happened, he doesn't know. It doesn't feel wrong, but... at the same time... it does. It isn't rough, it doesn't hurt, not even for a second. In fact, JJ is more gentle than anyone he's ever known and, once it's done, he can't help but smile and gently run his fingers down the smooth skin of the creature he's given himself to. JJ rubs gentle circles against Seung Gil's sides, grinning down at him almost lovingly as the pace of his hips slows to a stop.

"You're going to be so hungover when you wake up, you know." JJ's voice is like wind blowing through dry leaves, and Seung Gil looks up, wiping sweat from his forehead. JJ moves to lie next to him, and Seung Gil can't help but whimper at the loss of the other inside of him. His chest is still rising and falling slowly as he catches his breath, and he gives a small nod. "Maybe you should wake up. I'm sure you have some friends who need you to get them water or something. Phichit's a wreck."

"I won't ask how you know that." Seung Gil responds, sitting up and looking around. In this secluded dreamscape JJ's created for them, the sun has begun to rise and he looks over at the demon who is still lying down next to him, sweat glistening on his tanned chest and forehead.

JJ beams up at him, reaching up to gently stroke Seung Gil's cheek. "You don't want to wake up, do you?" He asks. "And not because of the hangover. You want to spend more time with me."

"Don't get cocky. You'll follow me around regardless." Seung Gil mumbles. JJ is still annoying, but less so. The two sit in a comfortable silence, watching as the sun rises and paints the meadow in colors Seung Gil feels like he's seeing for the first time. "I'm confused. You're a demon. Are you evil or aren't you?"

The demon laughs. Warm lips press against the nape of his neck and strong arms snake securely around his waist from behind. "That, Seung Gil," He whispers, teeth gently tugging at the lobe of his ear. "Is completely up to you." 

***

The first thing Seung Gil hears is Phichit gagging in the bathroom. The headache hits him next and immediately he groans, slamming his eyes shut. "Fuck," He curses before rolling out of bed to check on Phichit. The other is bent over the toilet, wearing a pair of sunglasses and nothing but a pair of underwear. 

"What's up with the sunglasses?" Seung Gil asks, sitting on the bathroom counter and leaning against the mirror. 

"The lights are too bright. I'm gonna shower, okay? Stay in here with me in case I fall and die?" The other reaches over, turning on the shower and shimmying out of his briefs before getting under the faucet. "Shit! That's cold! Why did I do that?!" 

Seung Gil laughs, closing his eyes and breathing deeply. This headache hurts, and it hurts a lot. A small knocking sound coming from behind him causes him to jump and he turns, seeing only his reflection. "JJ?" He whispers. 

"Huh? Did you say something?" Phichit calls from the shower, poking his head out. Seung Gil shakes his head, but he doesn't take his eyes off the mirror as Phichit retreats back behind the shower curtain. The mirror has started to fog up, and Seung Gil lifts a finger.

"You're there, aren't you?" He writes on the mirror. There's another faint tapping sound from behind the glass.

"I am." Two words appear under his own.

He sucks in a deep breath, shoulders tensing. "Mirrors." He scribbles. "You communicate with me when I'm not sleeping using mirrors." 

"You're so close." 

Seung Gil stares for a while, thinking about the encounters he's had with JJ while conscious. There's a common denominator in all of them. The glass doors of the patio where they first met, bathroom mirrors not just in the cabin, but in that nightclub...

"Glass. You communicate through glass." He writes yet another guess, hands shaking. 

"Getting warmer. I'll give you a hint." 

Seung Gil stares, and suddenly he notices something. His reflection... blinks. A fist flies forward and glass shatters, causing Seung Gil to recoil and fall to the floor onto his knees. He looks up, and he notices himself towering above him, shards of jagged glass protruding from bleeding fists. 

"Reflections!" Seung Gil stammers, moving back until he's pressed against the door. "You communicate through reflective surfaces and you can manipulate what's in them... mirrors, glass doors, windows..." 

"You got it! Congratulations!" His own voice fills his ears and the image of himself tilts his head, smiling, obviously satisfied. 

Hands grab his wrists and Seung Gil tries to wriggle out of their grip. "Seung Gil! It's Phichit! What's wrong? Snap out of it!" This time, the voice isn't his or JJ's. It's his best friend's, and Seung Gil finds himself still sitting on the counter with a naked Phichit pinning his hands to the mirror, trying desperately to calm him down. "What are you going on about? Who's communicating through reflective surfaces, what are you saying?" 

He opens his mouth to speak, but Phichit is looking past him in horror. He turns and his heart sinks. In place of the words he had written are unfamiliar letters, unreadable sentences and a large pentagram. Seung Gil sees JJ standing there, an arm around his waist. 

"You're smarter than you think, Seung." JJ coos softly into his ear. "All the questions you have about me... you're capable of answering them all on your own. You just probably shouldn't. They'll only make this more painful." He says, shrugging. He feels the other cup his chin and tilt his head up, and he follows the action. JJ is next to him, tangible. He feels the warmth of his skin, his breath fanning against his cheeks and his hands moving his head.

But Phichit can't. All Phichit sees is the devil himself inside of his own best friend. "Seung Gil... what's going on?" 

"Well, what are you going to tell him?" JJ taunts, the fingers of his other hand running up the Korean's side and under the fabric of the loose t-shirt he's wearing. 

For a moment, Seung Gil is quiet before he looks at Phichit, chewing his lower lip. "I would tell you if I knew." 


	7. septem

Phichit watches him closely throughout the day, feeling incredibly uneasy. Seung Gil sits on the couch the entire time, a notebook in his lap as he doodles absentmindedly. They've all agreed to have another party at the house that evening, and they're inviting the people they met at that bar the night before. Chris is in the kitchen, blending a couple margaritas and rapping flawlessly to Nicki Minaj's verses in "Feelin' Myself." 

"For the love of all that is holy can we listen to something else?" Yuuri whimpers from his spot at the table where he's sitting with Viktor, making a batch of jello shots. Everyone nods in agreement, including Otabek and Yuri, turning their attention from Call of Duty to glare at him. 

"Fine, you want something else?" Chris picks up his phone, switching to "Work Bitch" by Britney Spears. "There. There's something else. The next person to complain doesn't get one of my famous margaritas. That's the rule. You don't complain about my Britney. Yuri can put on his Panic! At The Mickey Mouse Clubhouse when these are done." 

Yuri stands up, tossing the controller to the ground. "I dare you to say that again!" 

Seung Gil chuckles weakly, looking up at the two. Yuri's throwing punches, but Chris is holding him at arm's length as he pours in some more tequila. Phichit looks at him, gently elbowing him. "You know those people we met at the bar? The two Italians and their one really touchy-feely friend? They said they're coming tonight. They're bringing a couple others too." It's no secret that Phichit's uncomfortable after what happened earlier. He avoids Seung Gil's gaze as he speaks, and the Korean can't help but feel guilty despite the fact it isn't his fault, it's JJ's. He gives a small nod in response, looking at the floor again before turning his attention back to what he's been drawing for the past hour.

"Phichit, Seung Gil, come help us make jello shots!" Viktor waves a hand and Phichit stands to join them. Seung Gil, however, refuses. The only seat open is facing a window, and he's not going to risk another encounter. Not after what happened this morning. He drags the pen across the paper, humming to himself a little bit. He's not sure what he's drawing, he's just... drawing lines. Anything to keep his mind busy and keep him from looking at the windows. 

"Hey, Seung Gil, could you grab that margarita mix?" Chris asks, gesturing towards a bottle on the counter. Seung Gil obeys, standing and handing it to him. He starts making his way back to his spot on the couch but pauses, looking at the drawing in the notebook. The lines have come together to form a familiar shape, a stained glass window. 

Seung Gil notices that everyone's looking at him and he just inhales sharply, grabbing the notebook and walking towards his room. He slams the door behind him and locks the door, pulling his knees to his chest and breathing deeply. He stays there for hours, silent, staring at the drawing in front of him. He remembers that, and he remembers it well; the colors of each panel, how it looked with sunlight streaming through it and at night, the vibrant hues it cast on the floor of the church as the sun was setting. He traces the shapes slowly, chewing his lower lip. His fingers carefully tear the sheet of paper from the notebook and he gives it one last look before he rips it to shreds, hot tears spilling down his cheeks. 

He moves to lie down, closing his eyes and deciding to sleep it off. It's a surefire way to run into JJ, and he certainly has a couple of questions. It doesn't take long before he's standing somewhere cold. He's on the edge of a skyscraper, looking down at the streets below, cars the size of ants speeding along below him. 

Arms wrap around his waist and pull him close, and instead of turning and giving him a piece of his mind, his eyes flutter closed. "Stop being so afraid of me." JJ speaks clearly. "I won't desert you. I'll be with you until the end of time if you let me."

He turns in JJ's arms, looking up into the blue eyes he's become so familiar with. He looks sincere, but there's still something off that he just can't place. "Don't forget. God abandoned you. You prayed a lot, and did He answer?" JJ's hand cups his cheek and Seung Gil feels his heart squeeze painfully in his chest before he shakes his head. "I'll be here whenever you need me, Seung Gil, and I'll never betray you the way He did. If God loves all His children, why were you different? You can join me, you know, and we can be together forever." 

Seung Gil stares, confused, and JJ keeps speaking. "You always wanted to know why I picked you over Phichit, and do you want to know the truth?" JJ whispers, bending to press gentle, lingering kisses against his jawline. "Because you need me, you're so lost and helpless and I can make you feel whole again... all you need to do is stop being so scared and I'll give you all you deserve. Don't question anything anymore, stop thinking so much and fearing me, you know who the monster is. I'll give you the world, Seung Gil, and all I ask for is your obedience..." 

"He's _lying_." Another voice cuts in and Seung Gil turns to see... another JJ standing behind him. He looks between the two, suddenly even more confused. "He's lying to you, don't listen to him! Wake up!" 

And he does. At least, he felt like he did. But this isn't where he fell asleep. The familiar scent of frankincense hits him immediately, and his ears suddenly pick up repetitive hymns he had been forced to sing. Pushing himself up weakly, he looks around and his eyes land on a stained glass window. For a while, he stares. 

"No," He whispers, looking around frantically. Somewhere, a door slams, and the chanting intensifies. He stands, and he tries to run, but he's moving slowly, as if he's sprinting in knee-deep water. "Please..." He begs, to no one in particular. His fingers grip the church doors, but they won't open. Defeated, he sinks to the floor, tugging at the doors helplessly as heavy footsteps echo behind him. Rough fingers tangle in messy black hair and his gaze travels towards the window, just as they always had. _Focus on the colors_ , he tells himself. _The panels on the outside alternate between_ _green, red, and white_... 

But this time, he can't focus. The colors blur together as he bursts into tears, trembling with fear, embarrassment, and every negative emotion a human can feel. He tries to calm down, to train his eyes back on the window to distract himself, but he's shocked to realize they aren't alone. Across the church, from the inside of a storage closet, his eyes meet another pair. They're blue. 

 


	8. octo

"Seung Gil... calm down." He looks up suddenly, seeing JJ standing right in front of him. He looks towards the closet again, and whoever is in there is still staring, but the image fades until they're sitting on his bed. He's not awake though, he can't be if JJ's right there in front of him. He stares up at him, trembling, and JJ carefully smooths his hair. 

"What's going on?" He yells, his voice cracking. "Why are there two of you? Why did you take me back there?"

JJ shakes his head and cups Seung Gil's cheeks, "Shh. Sometimes things get a little messed up, sometimes minds do strange things. There's another JJ because your mind conjured one up." He says, but Seung Gil notices uneasiness in JJ's voice. "You took yourself back there to the church."

"I didn't. I didn't take myself back there, I haven't thought about that place in years."

"I know you haven't. In fact, you're missing about three years of your life, Seung Gil. Inside your mind, there's a void. From the ages of ten to around thirteen or fourteen, you remember basically  _nothing_. You have a vague idea of what happened, the boring parts, but the details are gone. Because you blocked them out, and yet... they're still there. I've witnessed everything you're suppressing."

Seung Gil shoves his chest, hard. "No you haven't. How the hell would you know what's in my mind and what isn't?" 

JJ doesn't recoil from Seung Gil's sudden push, instead, he catches his wrists and grips them, and Seung Gil lets out a soft gasp as JJ's hold on his arms tightens to the point of being painful. "Because I'm inside of it, Seung Gil. I'm fucking knee-deep in the shit you won't let yourself remember. And that's what makes this so fun." He stares at Seung Gil, but the playful smile has faded into something more sinister, something that makes Seung Gil's entire body feel cold. "But here's the thing, sweetheart, you'll remember the gory details of happened to you sooner or later, with or without my help. One day you're going to remember why you hate being called 'angel', why you still feel slightly unclean no matter how many layers of skin you scrub off in scorching hot showers. I'm with you because I'm going to relieve you of all that pain."

Seung Gil stares up at him, feeling everything as he looks up at JJ. He's angry, he's frightened, he's nauseous. 

"You know what happened... and I can make it go away." JJ's voice is softer this time. He lets go of Seung Gil's wrists and lets his fingers move down Seung Gil's arms to take Seung Gil's hands in his. "You can be with me forever, and it won't hurt. Nothing will hurt. I know you're scared, but I'll make it better."

JJ moves closer, pressing Seung Gil down gently against the mattress. Seung Gil, against his better judgement, winds his arms around JJ's neck and leans up to kiss him slowly. "How will you make it better?" He murmurs against his lips, and JJ responds by letting go of one of his hands and letting it rest on Seung Gil's hip. Carefully it moves to the waistband of his pants, and warm fingers dip inside, running down his thighs. JJ smiles, relishing the way Seung Gil trembles, and he moves the digits over to press against the smooth skin of his inner thigh. 

"Don't do this." He hears a pleading whisper next to him, but no one is there. 

"Ignore it." JJ says, since he hears it too. "Only focus on me. Just pay attention to me..." He feels the palm of JJ's hand press against his member, working against him slowly through the thin fabric of his underwear. Seung Gil exhales a shaky sigh, his eyes fluttering closed as his lips find JJ's once more in a desperate, open-mouthed kiss. He pushes his own hands under JJ's t-shirt, shaky fingers counting his ribs before winding around to feel the curve of his spine. JJ's pulls away, his lips latching onto Seung Gil's neck.

Hot, wet kisses trail lower and lower until his feels the gentle scrape of JJ's teeth against his collarbone and cold air caress his thighs as the other removes his pants, managing to get a hand around him. JJ hesitantly pulls away, inching lower until he sits between the Korean's parted legs. Gently he lifts one, nipping and sucking at the smooth, pale skin of his thigh. Seung Gil reaches down, fingertips moving through JJ's dark hair and gripping softly as though the other would disappear at any moment and leave him alone with thoughts he's spent his life repressing. Warm lips wrap around him and so does JJ's tongue, and it burns in the most addictive way, like the promising crackle of nicotine, like hard liquor scorching a path down an eager throat. His hips roll upwards slowly, toes curling and relaxing against the sheets, whimpers leaving swollen lips as his ankles rest at the small of JJ's back.

"I'm begging you, _don't let him_..."

Bodies shift, pieces of clothing bundle at the edge of the mattress that creaks, keeping count of each desperate thrust. He stares up at JJ, one hand tangled in his hair and the other resting on his side, fingernails digging into the warm flesh each time JJ's hips meet Seung Gil's. Sweat beads on JJ's forehead and he beams up at him as though he's the one who arranged all the constellations, the mountain ranges... 

He swore off religion. One could only take so many unanswered prayers. But tonight he has something new to believe in, to worship. Heat pools in his stomach, shoots down his legs and up through his chest. JJ looks at him like he's the only person in the world, and he feels like he is as the other rocks himself tenderly into him. The angle of his hips changes, a moan catches in Seung Gil's throat, and lips crash together again, tongues tangling, but it isn't aggressive, it isn't sloppy. 

JJ doesn't pull out immediately after they both finish. Neither of them make any effort to move. Instead, they catch their breath while gazing at each other, taking comfort in the presence of one another, gazing into half-hooded eyes. "Do you love me?" The demon is the first to speak, and a gentle hand cups Seung Gil's cheek, a thumb rubbing his lower lip gingerly. 

"I do." Seung Gil says, and he thinks he means it. 

***

The party is in full swing when he wakes up. He rolls out of bed, grabbing his phone and blinking upon seeing a message from Emil. He tilts his head and breathes a small sigh. He had forgotten that Chris had invited them. He fixes his hair before shuffling out, tiredly rubbing his eyes and flinching as Chris comes up from behind him and pats his butt. 

"Well hello there, sleeping beauty." He says loudly. "You were out for quite some time. I saved you a margarita!"

"No thanks, I'm not drinking tonight." Seung Gil says, turning to him. Suddenly the smile fades from Chris' lips and he's staring, shocked. "What...?" Seung Gil whispers, tilting his head.

Christophe reaches up, touching Seung Gil's forehead. "Are you okay? You don't look so good." Chris manages to slur before fingers trail down, brushing against dark purple hickeys. Seung Gil backs away impulsively, edging past him and down the hallway. "Seung Gil... please... go back to bed or something. Or go to a hospital? I think you have a fever..." Chris' voice wavers slightly as he calls after him, and Seung Gil pays no mind.

The noises of people laughing and talking get louder and louder, and the closer he gets, the more he feels something isn't right. He stops suddenly and he feels Chris' fingers gently wrap around his wrist. "Come on." The other says pleadingly. "I'm worried about you. Otabek is sober, he can take you to the emergency room or something."

"I feel fine. It's probably not even a fever, you're drunk." Seung Gil says, tugging his arm away forcefully. Suddenly his stomach lurches and he places a hand against the wall to steady himself, inhaling sharply. Chris stares, concerned, but Seung Gil makes no effort to say anything before he darts into a bathroom and finds himself heaving into the sink. He opens his eyes once he feels his stomach is finally empty, and he's horrified to see red streaks of blood splattered against white porcelain. And hesitantly, he looks up into the mirror.

His cheeks are sunken in, and his eyes are underlined by dark circles that reach his cheeks. His skin is paler than usual, and a string of blood hangs from dry lips. He steps back, maintaining eye contact with his reflection cautiously. "Christophe." He whispers, turning to the Swiss man standing in the doorway. "Can you... tell me what you see?" 

Seung Gil doesn't trust his own mind, unsure if what's in the mirror is actually reality or something JJ has conjured up. 

Chris wanders in slowly, staring at him before his eyes flicker down to the sink. "You... just... that's blood." Is all he manages to say. 

The Korean bites his lip, turning his attention back to the mirror to see JJ. But... something feels different. JJ doesn't have his usual suggestive smirk on his face as he usually does when Seung Gil is in pain. He's crying. And both palms are pressed against the glass, as if he's trying hard to get to him. Seung Gil reaches up, slowly placing a hand against JJ's through the glass, and the other looks up at him tearfully.

Seung Gil suddenly wonders where he's seen JJ's eyes before. 

 

 


	9. novem

Chris hasn't left his side in hours. They were supposed to go to the hospital, but not one sober person is left in the house. The two are silent, save for the videos Chris is watching on his phone when he's not asking Seung Gil if he needs water. 

"You've been acting weird." Chris says after a while. "This whole trip, since that first night. Have you been okay? Is it the altitude, did someone say something to you and it's all tense but you're avoiding conflict? I just... something seems off." The Swiss man turns to him, reaching forward to touch his forehead again to see if his body temperature has fallen at all.

Seung Gil doesn't know how to respond. He wants to tell him about the man who has taken up residence in his mind, but he's afraid of the reaction he'll get. He shakes his head a little, offering a weak smile. "I guess it's just weird to be on vacation with nothing to do. I'm also a little homesick." He lies. 

"For Korea?" 

"Duh, Korea, where else?" He raises an eyebrow.

"I was just thinking, being here where it's so wintery, it might make you miss Quebec." 

Seung Gil frowns slightly. "I don't miss Canada at all. Honestly, I barely remember living there."

"That's where you learned French and English." Chris shrugs. "So you remember the languages but not living there in general. That's how we became friends, remember? I asked for directions in French when I was drunk?"

"How could I ever forget?" Seung Gil smiles up at him again at the memory of a very drunk Chris stumbling up to him and babbling in a language most people didn't comprehend at their California university. "And from that day on, you never left me alone. Now all your friends are my friends." He sighs a little bit, closing his eyes. "My French isn't good though. I don't have any reason to use it, so I'm forgetting..." 

Chris shrugs, moving to lay down next to him. "I'm homesick too, you know. I was supposed to go back to Switzerland, but flights were too expensive. I figured that ruining my liver with the squad in some weird mountain town in Colorado was the next best thing. So far it's been fun. The guys are hot. Rumor has it you got it on with that Czech dude doing keg stands in the living room. Anyone else?"

Seung Gil thinks for a moment, biting his lip. "There's one other guy." 

The other gasps, whacking his shoulder. "You big slut, you didn't tell me about another one! What's his name, how big is his cock? Would he be interested in a threesome?"

Seung Gil laughs, rolling over to dodge his hands. "His name is Jean Jacques." 

"Holy shit, is he French? I guess you can practice it after all, huh?" Chris grins, raising an eyebrow. "Now where did you meet him?" 

"Too many questions, Christophe." Seung Gil shakes his head. He can't come up with a good enough backstory in his head for how he met JJ, and it's not like Chris needs to know. 

Another thought hits him. He told JJ he loves him a few hours ago. For a moment, he thinks about it, unsure how it's all supposed to work. JJ has promised him forever more than once, but Seung Gil is unsure of how he would be able to spend an eternity with someone in his own mind. He looks up at the ceiling, chewing his lower lip. He can't spend the rest of his life sleeping, gazing into mirrors and windows. Chris reaches over, smoothing his hair and pulling him out of his trance.

"Are you feeling better? We'll take you to the hospital tomorrow." Chris says softly, and Seung Gil looks up at him. Chris' expression is worried, suddenly. The Korean looks up at him questioningly, and he sighs. "Seung... please tell me and tell me honestly." He takes a deep breath. "The mood you've been in. It's not because of what you and Phichit did with the ouija board, its it? Can you... tell me what you saw that night?"

The smile fades from Seung Gil's lips and he sits up. He needs to tell somebody. "I've been seeing a lot of things, Chris. And I don't know what to make of them..." He finally confesses, his voice trembling. 

Chris doesn't move, only stares as Seung Gil's eyes glaze over suddenly. "But they're harmless. I'm _fine_. It's none of your business."

The voice doesn't belong to Seung Gil.

***

Footsteps echo through an empty hospital hallway, fluorescent lights buzzing and flickering as fingers wrap around a doorknob and turn it. He steps in, closing the door behind him. Slowly he wanders over, taking a seat by the patient. 

"I think we need to have a little chat about your constant interference." 

The other looks up, the lights accentuating tear stains and dark circles under cerulean eyes. He seems utterly broken, his shoulders completely slumped. "The doctors told my parents they expect me to wake up soon. And when I do... I'm going to find him." 

"I'm not letting you wake up as long as I have control of your body. Like finding him would do you any good. That doesn't undo any damage you've already done to him. Besides," The demon scoffs, looking over at him, "He doesn't remember you."

"He'll remember me. He saw me. He saw me in that storage closet." The other's voice cracks slightly, a tear rolling down his cheek. 

Abruptly, the man stands, his head tilting and white hair falling across his forehead and into dark red eyes. "Yes, he saw you. And you know what? That's not good news for you, you don't want him to remember you. It all works in my favor. The minute he knows who you are, he'll hate you for what you did... or didn't do. You're the one who ruined his life. I'm doing him a favor." He chuckles mockingly at the boy restrained in the hospital bed, cupping his face so he's staring down at him. "Try your hardest, but you heard what he said. He _loves_ me. He's already mine, and you've lost." 

"You're sick." He snaps, hands clenching into fists. "He's had it hard enough, he doesn't need this from you..."

"And whose fault is that?" The demon slams his head back against the wall before letting go and stepping back. "I swear, if you so much as try to get in the way again, I'll pull that plug. You're not able to use your body, the least you can do is let me have it." He nods towards the machine that's currently keeping him alive, smiling down at him teasingly. 

He looks up at him, his bottom lip trembling. "I have so much to tell him..." 

"That sucks. You should have told him before he moved back to Korea." He turns, taking a few slow steps toward the door before looking back at him and laughing. "You know, there's something we can agree on."

"And what the fuck would that be?" The patient swats away another tear, his fingers shaking. 

Pushing the door open, he grins. "Those years with that priest made him pretty good with his mouth." 

 


	10. decem

"Is he asleep?" Phichit asks, poking his head in, and Chris nods.

"You must be having fun. You didn't answer my text for ten whole minutes, and you're _always_ on your phone." Chris stands, careful not to wake the sleeping boy next to him before he takes a few slow, cautious steps toward Phichit.

The Thai boy sighs, nodding. "Those Italians brought this weepy Russian guy who won't stop drunk crying about his ex girlfriend. I was comforting him." He explains. "So, might I ask why you're freaking out? Why you needed me to come so quickly?"

For a moment, Chris lowers his gaze to the floor, attempting to try and figure out how exactly to put it into words. "There's something wrong with Seung Gil..." is all he can manage at first. "He... he got sick earlier. There was blood. Then he stared into the mirror for a good two minutes before I dragged him back here to get him a change of clothes. I asked him if he was okay, since he's been acting so weird. He was starting to open up to me but suddenly he just, fuck, I don't know." He stops, taking a deep breath.

Phichit stares with wide eyes. "You know, I'm high as hell, but I get the feeling that would sound just as scary even if I weren't." He also glances at Seung Gil and bites his lip. "He's been sleeping so much lately. And yet he never seems like he's rested at all." He steps forward, picking up the notebook on the nightstand and flipping through it, pausing on a particular page. "I didn't know he was such a good artist. He's been waking up in the middle of the night a lot and just scribbling in this thing. Maybe he's just really stressed out." He remarks, fingers tracing the patterns on the paper. 

"Remember this morning though? How he was drawing then he just kind of... stopped and went to his room? I'm starting to get freaked out."

"Honestly," Phichit looks at him, sighing. "I am too. Do you know how we used that ouija board? Laugh if you want, but... I think we summoned something. I did a lot of research on using one. From everything I've read... we didn't just contact a spirit, but something way more... okay, I'll cut to the chase, we summoned a fucking demon that night. And I think it's latched onto Seung Gil, for some unknown goddamn reason."

Chris doesn't say anything, just nervously looks over at Seung Gil's sleeping form. "Where's the board?" Chris asks. "Let's contact it again. I want to know exactly what's going on, whether we should take him to the hospital or to a church." 

Phichit looks back down at the notebook, turning the page absently before pausing. There's a detailed drawing of a man's face there and his head rolls to the side. 

"Oh, he's cute." Chris says, peeking over into the notebook. "I wonder if that's the Jean Jacques guy he mentioned earlier."

Suddenly Phichit looks up at Chris. "What did you just say?"

"Earlier he mentioned that he had sex with some guy named Jean Jacques." 

"No. No no no." Phichit closes the notebook. "That can't be right. Are you sure he said that was the guy's name?"

"Yes, why?"

Phichit thinks for a while. "Let's break out the ouija board. This can't be real."

"Use your fucking words, Chulanont. Why are you freaking out?"

"Because whatever the fuck we communicated with that night gave 'Jean Jacques' as its name." Phichit says, obviously on the verge of tears as he slams the notebook back onto the nightstand. "I'm about to lose my shit, Christophe." 

"Don't lose your shit. We already have one person possessed by the fucking devil, we don't need this from you. You know how Viktor will react if yours and Seung Gil's drunken demon idiocy ruins this trip for him. You know we're all out here because he's proposing to Yuuri tomorrow, right? We're not going to do anything dramatic until that ring is around Yuuri's finger, got it? I changed my mind, we're not going to communicate with whatever that thing is tonight."

Phichit isn't listening. He watches as Seung Gil sits straight up, his eyes open and yet glazed over as they had been earlier. He nudges Chris' shoulder, gesturing for him to turn around. They watch as a pale hand reaches over and grips the notebook, tugging it into his lap. Seung Gil opens to a fresh page, and he begins to desperately scribble down words. 

Carefully Chris walks over, peeking at the page. "Hotel-Dieu de Quebec." Chris reads quietly as Seung Gil writes down numbers and street names. "It's a hospital." 

***

_Two young boys sit on a playground, one on a swing while the other sits on top of the slide. The school day ended an hour ago, and yet here they are, sitting in a comfortable silence. "You can go home if you want to, I'm boring." Seung Gil speaks finally in his slightly accented voice, looking up from his math homework. The other boy digs his heel into the wood chips to stop himself, raising an eyebrow at the him._

_"You're not boring at all. I think you're really interesting. No one else in our class is from Korea. No one else at our church, either. You're special." He stands, climbing a ladder to get himself closer, and he sits down right next to him. "Oh, you didn't get much done. What are you drawing?" He chuckles at whatever Seung Gil has doodled in the margins of the paper and he rests his chin on his shoulder._

_"Well, I don't know." He replies, grinning widely. "What do you think it looks like, JJ?" He lifts the piece of paper for him to see it clearly. "I think it looks kind of like... a..." He pauses, thinking hard. English isn't his first language, and words escape him constantly. "Like that window in the church. The pretty one above the altar." He nods, satisfied with that description._

_JJ nods, looking closer at it. "You should show it to Father Mathieu. He would think it's nice."_

_"No," Seung Gil objects, shaking his head. "I don't like him. He yells at me a lot when I mess up my Latin." He says, his bottom lip protruding slightly. "But I'm trying. Really hard. I've had to learn three languages since we moved here."_

_"I think you're his favorite. He thinks you're smart."_

_"Is that what 'exotic' means?" Seung Gil looks over at him, as if he's having some sort of breakthrough. "He calls me that a lot. I would ask eomma and appa-- I mean, mom and dad, but they don't know as much English as I do, so they wouldn't know either."_

_The Canadian boy is silent for a while. "I don't know what that word is, but it's probably nice. He wouldn't be mean to you on purpose." He shrugs, looking up at Seung Gil, who's staring over at the church. "Besides, you seem to be really serious about Jesus and God and all of that."_

_"I have to be." Seung Gil says, looking at him. "My family gets to be here in the prettiest city in the world, and it's because He helped appa, I mean_ dad _, find a job." He points towards the sky, grinning. "Plus, even if the kids in our class tell me my eyes are different, it's nice to know that they were made that way on purpose. It feels better. It's kind of weird sometimes. Back in Korea, everybody looked like me..." He shrugs._

_"I think you look nice. You're handsome. You look different, but it's a good different."_

_Seung Gil turns, blinking, obviously taken aback. His pale cheeks are a light shade of pink. "Thank you, Jean." He says quietly before a wide smile spreads across his face. "Wanna go to your house? Maybe your mom will take us to the skating rink for a little while." He grabs his backpack, slinging it over his shoulder after shoving his homework into it._

_"I'll race you there." JJ challenges, and Seung Gil has taken off down the slide already. Soon the two of them are sprinting down the road, feet pounding against the concrete. JJ looks over, looking at Seung Gil's face. He's beaming, messy black hair blowing back in the wind and revealing eyes the color of his father's morning coffee. He appears so happy, so carefree. The world hasn't hurt him yet._

JJ remembers multiple Seung Gils. He remembers the instant transition, where Seung Gil became an adult seemingly overnight. He remembers expressive eyes suddenly losing their shine, constant giggles becoming shaky sobs. He remembers the devout church boy, the one who could solve any math problem put in front of him, then the one who couldn't stop crying... the one who started ditching classes because it just became too much to handle. The one who stared him dead in the eyes, a cigarette between trembling fingers as he told him how much he was _hurting_...

Of all those Seung Gils, his favorite is this one. The one who laughs and gets up after he skins his knees and believes in the goodness of people, the one who looks at everything with childlike wonder.

And yet JJ knows he's the reason that boy is gone. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thinking of writing an Otayuri fic once this is done, thoughts?


	11. undecim

Christmas got lost somewhere between jello shots and reckless decisions, Seung Gil realizes, and he was fine with that. It took a very excited Viktor pouncing on him and Phichit this morning screaming about how today was the day he was going to propose to "the super fantastical love of my life oh my God it's happening someone hold me." 

"Shh, Viktor. He's going to hear you." Phichit laughs, sitting up and rubbing his eyes as Viktor affectionately ruffles his hair. 

"No he isn't." Viktor responds, smiling. "He's out with Yurio and Otabek buying some more food and a Christmas tree. I'm going to ask him to marry me as we're all decorating it tonight. He's going to be my birthday present and Christmas present." 

Seung Gil, always the pessimist, glances over at Viktor. "If he says yes and you don't screw it up." 

"You're just bitter because you're allergic to all human emotions, Seung Gil. One day you'll find someone who makes you feel the way I feel about Yuuri. But that'll only happen after you learn to smile." He reaches to poke at Seung Gil's cheek and he slaps his hand away, shaking his head. "Chris told me you weren't feeling well last night, but you're looking a little better. Are you feeling better too?" He says as something of a peace offering. Seung Gil thinks for a bit. Strangely, he doesn't remember dreaming anything at all. 

He looks up at Viktor, forcing a smile and nodding at him. He sees Phichit give him a thumbs-up and he chuckles, sitting up as well. "I forgot it was Christmas Eve." Seung Gil confesses.

"A lot of us did. It sucks that we all have our families in different countries, I guess that makes it easy to forget." Phichit rolls out of bed and grabs a t-shirt, pulling it on and looking back at Viktor and Seung Gil. "I'm sure you'll be getting some Skype calls later, Seung Gil. Your mom and dad take Christmas pretty seriously." 

"Painfully aware." He grunts in response. Almost as if on cue, his phone buzzes and he answers, seeing his mother's face. "Ah, _eomma_..." He greets, switching over into a language she can actually understand. 

"Seung Gil, are you just waking up? It's pretty late over there!" She smiles at him, turning so his father is visible too. "We didn't know whether we should call you today or tomorrow, since Christmas is tomorrow for you but... here we are. You're going to mass tonight, right?"

He shakes his head. "I wouldn't go to church even if you paid me, _eomma_ , and you know I hate Christmas." He responds, chuckling as she sighs dramatically at him. 

"I keep hoping one day that will change. Speaking of Christmas, I found something cute. Want to see?" She doesn't wait for a response, only stands up and walks around. The microphone picks up the sound of her shuffling feet and Seung Gil moves to lay down again, peering at the screen as she holds up a photograph. "Look! Do you remember that Christmas party the Leroy family had every year? I found some photos from one of them. Look how cute your cheeks were." 

Seung Gil holds the phone closer, getting a closer look. There he is, sitting in a red sweater with a cookie shaped like a reindeer hanging out of his mouth, obviously caught off guard. There's another child in the photo, he realizes, and he glances at him before his eyes widen slightly. 

"Who's the one sitting next to me?" He asks, staring. The resemblance is uncanny. 

"He was one of the Leroy children. I don't remember which one he was, cause I think they had three... But I'm pretty sure he was in your class." She turns the camera back to herself. "Isn't it cute though?"

"Yeah, really cute." He says quietly as his mother turns to his father, asking if he remembers the name of the boy in the photo. The man leans over to look at the photograph before shrugging. 

"I think his name was Janet Jackson." His father gives a confident nod after pronouncing it with a heavy accent, and Seung Gil can't help but laugh. 

He grins at him, repeating it and chuckling at his father's valiant effort. "Janet Jackson Leroy, huh, _appa_?" He plays along, since he doesn't have the heart to correct him. The subject is dropped immediately, Seung Gil failing to make the connection.

"It's been a while since you've laughed like that." His mother comments, and Seung Gil knows she's right. The call lasts for a while, and Seung Gil is grateful. It's been months since he last had an actual conversation with them, since their conversations usually consist of Seung Gil grunting impatiently in response to their questions. He notices Phichit still sitting on his bed and he blinks, pushing himself to sit up again once he hangs up. "You're still here. I thought you would be getting a bowl of cereal or something." He comments. Phichit says nothing, instead he looks like the wheels in his head are turning. 

***

It's quiet, much quieter than it has been the past few nights they've been in the cabin. It's the first time they're not all trashed, and while the sound of Christmas music makes Seung Gil want to puke, he's having a fine time sitting on the carpet and handing ornaments to Chris, who is tall enough to place them at the top of the tree. Viktor is giving Yuuri something of a piggy-back ride, putting the Japanese man in the position to place the star at the top. Once it's all settled, Viktor sets him down and turns to him. 

Seung Gil can tell by the way he's looking at him with twinkling eyes and he glances at everyone watching intently. It's happening. "I actually bought a Christmas present for you, Yuuri, and I know it's not Christmas yet, but... open it." The Russian holds out a small box wrapped in gold paper with a little ribbon on top and the other carefully unwraps it. Once the box is visible, Viktor takes it slowly from him and gets on one knee, his gaze never leaving Yuuri's as he begins to speak again. 

He smiles as he watches his two friends, but something feels... off. He shifts uncomfortably, looking around the room. Suddenly his chest feels tight and breathing is too difficult, and all the noise becomes just watery echoes. The only clear sound is _Silent Night_  in the background, and he swears it's getting louder and louder until it's basically deafening. He places his hands over his ears, eyes wide as he takes a few shallow breaths. 

His friends' lips are moving, but he doesn't hear them. He hears nothing but that song, and another voice, the voice of a child, suddenly rises above it, speaking clearly. "What's wrong, Seung Gil? Do you need us to take you home? Why are you still here? It's late..." 

Panic starts to set in and he looks around anxiously, trying to figure out what those words mean, but suddenly he hears his friends cheering loudly and he turns to see Yuuri in Viktor's arms, the ring on his finger. Forcing a smile, he watches as the two pull back to stare at each other tearfully. Even Yuri looks happy for them, and he's grinning as he watches the two from his spot next to Otabek, his cheek pressed against his shoulder. 

Seung Gil's phone vibrates and he blinks, looking back down. "Amelie Dubois added a photo of you" it reads, and he can't help but feel a shocked. He remains friends on social media with some people from his time in Quebec, but he hasn't spoken to any of them in ages. He unlocks his phone, taking a good look at the post. "Found this gem from elementary school! Look how cute we all were! Merry Christmas everybody let's have a reunion soooooon." It's followed by a ton of heart emojis and he looks at the photo, seeing himself and some of his classmates all lined up together on the front steps of their school. It's not hard for him to find his messy black hair and almond-shaped eyes among the crowd and he smiles softly before he notices that boy from earlier standing next to him. It can't be a coincidence that both his mother and his former classmate have brought these photos to his attention. Something is strange, and it terrifies him. 

He scrolls down, looking at who is tagged in the photo. Some of the names are familiar, some aren't. But they don't matter. What matters is that he finds the name he's looking for. "Jean Jacques Leroy." His blood runs cold and he slowly taps the name, holding his breath as a profile loads. He's met with a picture of a beautiful man with blue eyes, dark hair, and a smile that could melt even the coldest of hearts.

It's the face of the demon he's been spending his nights with. 


	12. duodecim

His eyes fly open, his body suddenly upright. He looks around, realizing he's not with his friends, but with JJ. The demon sits at the edge of the mattress and he chuckles, looking back at him over his shoulder. "Ah, Seung Gil." He says, shifting and crawling over, a strong hand cupping his face. "You're finally awake. It's been hours."

"What do you mean? I have been awake." He responds, staring up at JJ. "Yuuri and Viktor just got engaged and..." He trails off, holding his head that suddenly has started aching.

"Oh, no. That hasn't happened yet. Yuuri should be home here in about ten minutes. You just rolled over and went right back to sleep after Viktor woke you up, you must be exhausted." The demon uses his free hand to pat the top of his head. "Sounds like you had some interesting dreams though."

Seung Gil shakes his head. "No, it happened. We were on the floor, I was handing Chris ornaments and Viktor proposed... then... then I was tagged in a picture on Facebook and you were there..." He desperately reaches for his phone, scrolling through his notifications, but he sees nothing. "Wh-where is it?" He inhales sharply, realizing that JJ is right. None of it ever happened. "Wait a minute. This has to be a dream too. I couldn't be talking to you right now if it wasn't..." He says.

"Are you so sure?" JJ laughs, tilting his head. "What's real, Seung Gil? What isn't? Where's that picture you were tagged in? Are you just inserting me into your childhood memories now because you're _so in love_ with me? Do you even know?"

His shoulders slump. "I... I don't know. I don't know at all." For a moment, the room is silent, and Seung Gil is pushing himself to think, and yet he can't explain it, he doesn't even know if what he's experienced ever happened. JJ sighs softly, tilting Seung Gil's face and looking at him. "I'm not inserting you into my childhood memories. You were there... I know you were..."

"How do you know? Do you remember me being there at all? Do you remember talking to me? Your memories don't matter or count, Seung Gil, because you don't have any, there are no memories to speak of that you can put me in. All you're coming up with is utter fiction, scenarios you made up to supplement what actually happened because you're so ashamed of yourself, and you _should_ be."

He hesitantly shakes his head. "No, no." He argues, though it makes sense. He doesn't remember that boy even a little bit, nor does he know if the pictures are real. He doesn't know if he's awake or if he's still dreaming. "Who are you... who is he? He was in that photo my mother showed me... he was in that one on Facebook that Amelie posted... why is it all happening now? I left Quebec years ago... where are these pictures coming from?"

"Your own mind." JJ chuckles and leans in, bumping their noses together. "If you're so convinced that the photo is real and I was a part of your life... tell me what I did. Tell me how I'm significant, how you know me. Tell me everything you remember about that boy in that class picture that was never taken."

Seung Gil shakes his head as JJ crawls on top of him, chests pressed flush against each other. "I don't know. I don't... I don't know who he is..." He stares up at the ceiling as his back presses against the mattress and warm lips press against his jugular. 

"It must be so tiring, Seung Gil." The demon says against his neck. "Not knowing a God damned thing about your life or anyone in it, not knowing if you're awake or asleep." His tongue traces up his neck, and his grip on Seung Gil's body tightens. "It must be so fucking _painful_... assigning faces and names and backstories to people who have never existed just to make yourself feel whole. If a picture of you as a child _was_ posted, would you even recognize yourself?" 

The questions get to him and he can't figure it out. If that photo doesn't exist, where did it come from? How did his mind's eye conjure up these people... if none of them are real?  

"Your Jean Jacques couldn't save you then." The demon speaks again. "And he won't save you now. Let him go. I'm the only one. And you can be mine forever." 

His eyes fly open yet again, and the front door opens. He turns to see Yuuri and Otabek, both carrying a large box. "We're home!" Yuuri calls, chuckling as Viktor sprints over to him, kissing his cheek and asking to help with the groceries. He sits up, realizing he's been asleep on the sofa.

Seung Gil grabs his phone, opening it and looking once more for the pictures. They're not there, and JJ is right. There is no Jean Jacques Leroy. Only a desperate and broken Seung Gil making memories out of nothing. The world has stopped making sense. 

And for a fleeting moment, he deeply yearns to leave it.

***

_He loves Christmas Eve, he always has, and he smiles to himself as he holds up a paper snowflake he made as his mother cleans up her office. The radio plays Christmas carols and he can't help but hum along with them. "I'm tired." He says, looking up at her and leaning against her as she walks over to hug him._

_"I know, JJ. Christmas is busy. I gave you the option to go home with your father, you know..." She smiles, taking his hands and kissing them. "That's a pretty snowflake, by the way."_

_"Thank you." He replies cheerfully. "I was going to give it to someone as a Christmas gift, but I don't know who to give it to." He says, folding it back up and slipping it into his pocket._

_His mother nods, grabbing her jacket and slipping it on. "Give it to someone who needs it. Hey, could you do me a favor? Remember how I taught you to start the car? Can you go to that for me? You can wait in there and turn on the heater so you're nice and warm. I just have to finish up some things, then we can head home, go to bed, and Santa will bring you presents." She bends down, kissing his cheek after he agrees. He turns, making his way down the stairs and towards the large double doors, humming along with_ Silent Night _as he makes his way down the aisle._

_Using all of his strength, he pushes open those heavy doors, and he blinks upon seeing a figure sitting there on the steps. "Seung Gil?" He asks, smiling as the other turns to him._

_The Korean boy is all huddled up, the button-down shirt he was wearing earlier is buttoned sloppily. Snowflakes are stuck in matted black hair and his lips are a blueish color. Tears are stuck in his dark eyes, and Jean Jacques' eyes widen. "What's wrong, Seung Gil? Do you need us to take you home? Why are you still here? It's late..."_

_Seung Gil is silent for a moment. "M-mom is on her way. I left my coat in the confession room." He says, his voice breaking. "Can you go get it? Please?"_

_He gives a slow nod, heading back in to grab it. Father Mathieu glances at him, obviously in the middle of gathering everything up, offering a smile as the young boy picks the jacket up off the floor. "Ah, I was wondering if he would come back for it..."_

_The air is thick with a tension JJ can't place and he slowly backs up, giving a polite nod before he joins Seung Gil back on the steps, placing the jacket around his trembling shoulders. He reaches into his pocket, pulling out a piece of folded paper. "I... made this for you as a present." He says, sitting next to him and placing it in Seung Gil's hands. "Here..."_

_He beams as Seung Gil unfolds it, giving a small nod of approval. But... the other doesn't smile. His lips remain curved downwards, and Jean Jacques knows something is wrong. He wraps an arm around him, but Seung Gil shoves his chest, hard._

_"Don't touch me!" He yells, his voice shaking, and Jean Jacques moves back, doing as he's told. "I'm... sorry... I'm sorry..." The Korean boy's eyes widen after he realizes what he's done, and he shakes his head, standing as a car pulls up. He says nothing else before he runs down the steps, throwing the car door open and disappearing into it._

_"JJ, sweetheart..." His mother's voice causes him to jump and he turns. "Why didn't you start the car?"_

_He looks back at her, biting his lip. "I forgot." He whispers before he throws his arms around her. "Let's go home, please..."_

Looking back on it, he wonders if there was anything he could have said or done.


	13. tredecim

The proposal happens just how it did in his dream. He watches Viktor drop onto one knee, utter the same words, and Yuuri's smile is just as bright as his mind predicted. But this time, his phone doesn't buzz. There are no photos he's tagged in, no more revelations about what's going on. He smiles, congratulates the two as he's supposed to, but his mind is completely somewhere else. In some ways, it doesn't even feel like he _has_ a mind. Lately he's been feeling like he's floating, and there are fleeting seconds where he sees himself from other perspectives, like he's outside of his own body. Sometimes he wonders if he should tell someone, but he knows it's no use. 

He feels so alienated. As his friends talk and laugh, he finds himself struggling to understand any of it, like he's reverted back to his six-year-old self sitting in a classroom, his features contorted into an expression of sheer confusion as classmates and teachers asked him questions in French and English, two different languages he knew nothing about. 

It feels so heavy. All of it. There's a lot he wants to say, to ask about, but what difference would it make? None of them can answer his questions. So he stands quietly in the kitchen, making himself a package of ramen noodles silently as everyone else watches Christmas movies. 

"Wait, so..." Phichit speaks up. "I don't get it? If Christmas is about Jesus' birthday... why aren't any of the Christmas movies about him? What's up with the talking snowman? My family is Buddhist..." He tilts his head and Chris shrugs, glancing back at Seung Gil. 

"I don't know, ask altar-boy back there. He could tell you." 

Seung Gil turns, hands clenched into fists. "Excuse me? What the fuck did you just call me?" He snaps, and suddenly Chris looks genuinely shocked that Seung Gil just raised his voice like that. 

"I called you an altar-boy, but it was a joke! Just because your family is so..."

"Shut up." Seung Gil practically yells. "That's not funny." Everyone falls silent, unsure of why it hurt him so badly, and he turns back to the boiling water, staring into it.

"Oh, he sure struck a nerve, didn't he, Seung Gil?"

Seung Gil's head snaps back up at the familiar voice and he has to stiffen his upper lip and take a deep breath to keep from tearing up. He can't handle this, he can't handle JJ mocking him right now. Now that he thinks about it, he's not sure who JJ is. Sometimes he's so loving, other times he's so cruel. Seung Gil wonders if the JJ that exists in dreams is different from the one he sees in mirrors and windows. 

If he's being honest with himself, he doesn't know if he's awake or asleep at the moment. What if Chris didn't call him an altar-boy? What if all of this, right now, is a dream? He lowers his gaze to the pot and carefully moves it to another burner, staring down at the red hot metal and lifting his hand. If it hurts, he's awake. If it doesn't...

He places his hand on the burner, gasping as he basically feels the flesh melt, hearing the sound of it sizzle against the scorching stovetop. He staggers back, gripping his wrist and staring down at his hand, seeing that it's already blistering. Yuuri is suddenly at his side, pushing him towards the sink and turning on some cold water, forcing his injured hand under it. 

"Why did you do that?" Phichit asks, but he doesn't sound concerned. In fact, now that he's looking at everyone, they look completely fed-up with him. "Did Chris' comment really upset you that much?"

He opens his mouth to speak, but no words come out at first. Their judging eyes burn just as much as his hand and he shrinks back a little, catching his lower lip between his teeth again as he just breaks and his eyes fill with tears. "I just wanted to make sure I was awake." He tries, but it comes out in jumbled Korean. He pulls his hand out from under the water, away from Yuuri's. 

"It was just a harmless comment..." Chris tries again, and Seung Gil just shakes his head. It wasn't harmless. Not to him. 

He pushes past them all, into the bathroom. He shuts and locks the door behind him, looking down at his fingers and inhaling sharply. "Seung Gil... let me see." JJ's fingers wrap around his wrist carefully and he looks up as JJ materializes in front of him, inspecting the damage. He sniffles as the other takes a good look, sighing and letting JJ put his arms around him. He melts into the man's embrace, choking on his tears. 

JJ keeps his arms tightly around him, letting Seung Gil sob for a while before he pulls back. "It's okay, Seung. We can make it better. I know you're unhappy, and we can fix it." He holds Seung Gil's hand against his lips, kissing his palm a few times. "You don't have to deal with it anymore. You've always been so special and different, but in this world it's viewed so negatively. No one understands you, not even your own family." He coos, leaning in to let their foreheads rest against each other's. "Your parents judge you for not sharing their views. When you were Catholic, your peers said you were 'boring' and 'no fun.' After you gave up the religion that was killing you and started to do what you wanted when you wanted to, you were suddenly a 'slut.' How is that fair?" He smooths Seung Gil's hair as the Korean cries even harder. 

"Y-you're right." He chokes, rubbing his eyes. 

"You don't have to do it anymore. You don't have to keep feeling so lonely. You don't have to keep feeling so dirty..." He continues. "None of it is your fault." 

There's a rattling sound and his gaze turns to an orange pill bottle, rolling towards him. His chest tightens and he looks up at JJ. "N-no. I'm scared." He whispers, suddenly hiding his face in his shoulder and taking deep, fast breaths. 

"Are you? Are you more scared than you were when you were only a child with an old man's hand down your pants?"

Seung Gil stops, looking up at him. JJ stares right back, his expression solemn and determined. "Wh-what?" Is all he can stammer out. "I don't know what you're talking about." His voice cracks and another tear slides down his cheek. 

"You're right, you don't. Because you made yourself forget about it, but you know..." JJ cups his cheeks. "Denying it doesn't mean it never happened. It went on for nearly three years, and _nobody_ helped you. Come with me, Seung Gil. You don't have to hurt anymore." 

He stares up at JJ, the tears coming faster, his lower lip trembling as well as his entire body. "But my friends..." 

"They won't miss you at all. You saw the way they looked at you." 

Giving a slight nod, he reaches for the bottle. There's a slight knocking noise and he looks up, seeing a separate reflection of JJ in the mirror above him. He pounds the glass, hard, as though he's trying to shatter it. "JJ..." He mumbles, eyes looking between the two again. He feels confused and he snuggles closer towards the one holding him, though his eyes never leave the other one as he desperately slams his fists into the glass repeatedly. 

Suddenly the lights flicker and Viktor is in front of him, prying the container from Seung Gil's hands. "Give it to me, Seung Gil!" He yells, and he obeys, letting it go. "Where did you get these, huh? What the hell are you trying to do?" 

He stares up at the silver-haired man, completely disoriented. "I... don't know." He says, and he wonders if that's the only phrase he's capable of saying. It's not like it's a lie. He has no idea what's going on, he only knows that he's in trouble. Viktor grabs his wrist, tugging him up and pulling him towards the door before he pauses, eyes trained on the mirror.  

"Seung Gil..." Viktor says, eyes narrowed. "Did you... see that?" 

"See what?" Seung Gil questions, looking at the mirror as well. 

After a long pause, Viktor speaks. "In the mirror. I could have sworn there was another person's reflection."


	14. quattuordecim

"There." Phichit sighs, pulling back and admiring his work on Seung Gil's hand. It's bandaged neatly, and the other promises they'll go to the hospital tomorrow. In the other room, he hears two loud voices, arguing about what exactly to do about him.

"It's snowing too hard for us to get him to the hospital, Yuuri! I know you don't want anything to happen to him, I don't either, but driving in this weather is way too dangerous. I took the pills from him and hid them, so don't worry about it, okay? He's not gonna do anything, I promise you. There's no way he can harm himself." Viktor practically screams, and Seung Gil hangs his head. His head is aching, his hand is stinging, and his eyes are heavy with an impossible sleepiness.

They can hear Yuuri letting out an aggravated sigh. "Viktor, it doesn't matter if he can't do anything. The fact of the matter is he tried to. He purposefully burned the shit out of his hand and you walked in on him prying the cap off a bottle of some fucking strong painkillers. Where did those pills even come from? I want to know. He hasn't been drinking, so I want a damn good explanation if you won't let me drive him to the nearest emergency room right this second." His voice is desperate, and now that Seung Gil thinks about it, he doesn't know where he got the pills either.

Phichit pulls him into a hug, burying his face in his hair. "Come on," He says. "Let's get you to bed." Seung Gil nods, knowing he should sleep. He walks with Phichit towards their bedroom, ignoring the yelling until he hears a name.

"How the fuck would he get his hands on a prescription belonging to someone who isn't even on this trip with us? Do you think he bought them at the bar or something? Cause I certainly don't recall bringing a 'Jean Jacques Leroy' on this trip with us, do you?" Yuuri yells, and Seung Gil stops dead in his tracks. "I don't know where he got these pills, Viktor, he's harmed himself twice tonight, and he's been acting this way the entire trip! Something's up, and by not addressing it, you're part of the problem!" He yells.

"The prescription must have been bought from someone in town because look, the patient's address is in fucking Canada! These pills aren't from someone in this house, Yuuri. I've confiscated the bottle. If he wants more, he's going to have to call up whatever dealer he got it from. There's nothing else he can take. He's going to be fine until tomorrow morning." There's an eerie silence, and Seung Gil isn't sure if he's hearing it right. Finally, Yuuri speaks.

"He got it from an outside party then, fine. But if he's had it the whole trip, it shows that this is something he's been planning. But fine. You've always been stubborn. I guess there's no changing your mind."

Seung Gil takes that as his cue to leave, and Phichit follows silently, helping Seung Gil crawl into bed. "I can grab one of those painkillers for your hand later if you need it." He mumbles, and the Korean gives a slight nod. "Get some rest. You need it. Don't try anything, okay? Hold on for one more day... for me."

He looks over at him, a little shocked to see the other's eyes shining with tears. "One more day." He agrees, not having it in him to explain anything further. Phichit nods, and Seung Gil watches as he makes his way over to his own bed and curls up on it. He turns his attention to the ceiling, gazing up at it for what feels like an eternity before, suddenly, two hands grip his cheeks, hard.

"Seung Gil Lee!" He hears JJ's voice and his face comes into view. "Are you fucking stupid? What the hell was that? Trying to kill yourself? Are you fucking with me?" He yells.

"I... I was just doing what you asked me to!" Seung Gil stammers, shocked by how JJ is looking at him. He looks angry, no, beyond pissed. "You told me to take those pills so we could be together forever... and that's all I want. I don't want to feel this way anymore. I just want to be with you... I love you." He tries to sit up or push JJ off, but he can't move.

The other's blue eyes widen, and he looks more hurt than anything. "Shut up. Shut up, Seung. That creature, that thing is not me. I would never ask you to do something like that. Don't you remember? You've pulled that shit before and I literally had to talk you down--" Suddenly the other stops, his expression softening. "Wait a minute... did you just reply to me?"

"Yes? You asked me a question and I answered it?" For a moment, everything is silent. Suddenly the other is smiling and he bends down, throwing his arms around Seung Gil's stiff body.

"Holy shit, I knew I could do it. And he said I couldn't. Listen, Seung Gil. You're not asleep. But you aren't awake either. Right now you're experiencing something called sleep paralysis. Don't ask me to define it. I'm a sports medicine major. But that isn't important right now. The important thing is that you can hear me and this is the only place where I can exist without him there, too. Right now, where you're not quite asleep or awake, is where he's rendered powerless. Fuck, that's cool."

"Who the hell are you?" He asks, wanting to push this person off of him. "Where's JJ?"

"I'm JJ, Seung Gil. Remember? Jean Jacques?" He stares at Seung Gil desperately, two blue orbs searching his face, pleading. "Oh, fuck. I have so much to say, but I didn't expect this to work, honestly..." He cups Seung Gil's cheeks, gently, and the look he's giving him is one Seung Gil can't place. But it calms him in a way nothing has since the beginning of this whole ordeal. "I guess I should start by telling you I'm sorry..." He rests his forehead against Seung Gil's, his eyes closing as they lay there in a comfortable silence.

Seung Gil blinks. "But for what? Why are you sorry? I don't know who you are... Why are you acting like this, JJ..." He trails off, feeling so overwhelmed by how the other is holding him and speaking to him like they haven't seen each other in years. "You said yourself, I made you up. Stop trying to confuse me by saying you've been a part of my life all along."

"But you didn't! You didn't make me up! I was there! For the love of God, this is why he's doing this to you, you're such an easy target..."

JJ's voice fades until it's all echoes. His image wavers and his grip loosens, and Seung Gil can't help but feel uneasy as the man disappears completely. A hand slides up his shirt and he finds he can move again. Turning, his eyes fall upon who he assumes is the other image of who he's been talking to. And yet, how is he sure the other JJ is being sincere? He hardly even knows if he's dreaming or not most of the time, it could be another mind trick. He finds himself inching closer to the man in bed next to him and burying his face in his shoulder, the headache he's had since their first encounter throbbing even harder. JJ holds him tightly, kissing his forehead and shaking his head slightly. "Jean Jacques," He whispers, troubled by the fact that the name rolling off his tongue feels familiar. "I need an answer. I need you to tell me what you need me to do."

The demon shifts next to him, looking up at Seung Gil and pressing his lips into a thin line. "It won't get any easier." He says simply. "I think you're too far gone. You've refused to think about what's happened, to better yourself from it. Instead, you've pushed it all away. You've cut ties with people who have loved you, you've allowed yourself to deteriorate. People noticed, yes, but they didn't feel a need to do anything. It's too late to change. Thinking about it all now would break you, since you've been denying it all since it happened. There's no way for you, Seung Gil. You're only a shell of who you used to be. I'm your only chance at salvation. I've said all of this before, but you just need to..."

It sounds so familiar, and not just because Jean Jacques has begged him to do this before... but because he vaguely remembers saying the same things to himself, choking on his tears while sitting under a tree in a park at some ungodly hour. But not just to himself... there was someone there with him.

There was someone who listened, though he can't, for the life of him, remember who. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for how long this took! Finals are coming up, but soon I'll be free. Thank you for the continued support!


	15. quindecim

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is going to be a pretty heavy chapter, please take note of these warnings and be gentle with yourself. <3 Also, I apologize for how long this took and how it's a bit of a filler chapter. I've been so busy and I'm trying to get back into the swing of things. Some encouragement would be nice! <3 Hint hint
> 
> CW: victim blaming, anti-religious sentiments, teaching of abstinence

It's quiet, and Seung Gil knows it's his fault as he pushes cereal around in his bowl with his bandaged hand. It hurts to even hold the spoon, but that's what's keeping him awake. "So, Viktor, it's your birthday. What did you want to do?" Otabek says stiffly, looking up from the table. Seung Gil can hear everything. The way Yuri's fingers drum against the table, the small sigh that leaves Yuuri's lips, the way Phichit uncomfortably shifts in his chair. 

"I suppose we should take Seung Gil to the hospital." Viktor grunts, his face expressionless.

"I'm fine." Seung Gil objects.

"No, you're not fine." Yuri turns to him, eyes narrowing. "You know what, I've been trying to keep quiet and make this trip fun by not calling you out, but I'm tired of it. So what the fuck is your problem? Doing all this weird shit, burning your hand, attempting suicide in the damn bathroom. You obviously want attention, and now you have it, what's up?" The younger Russian boy's words hurt, but what hurts the most is nobody disagrees. They all stay perfectly quiet, as if they hadn't heard the accusations. 

Seung Gil doesn't want attention. In fact, he's always been one to stay silent, to go along with everyone else's plans. Attention is the last thing he wants, and he's angry that the situation has escalated to the point of where he's being accused of instigating drama when all he's trying to do is keep himself alive, to keep reality straight. He's dealt with so many things alone. He had planned to handle this by himself, too. "I don't want attention." He says, looking at him. "I just want to be alone." He's good at ignoring his issues, at bottling them up. But this situation isn't so simple.

"You can't be alone." Yuri snaps. "You know we all made sure you stayed asleep in shifts, right? You even fucking sleep weird. I don't know what drugs you're on that make you wake up and write shit in fucking French, that make you think it's a good idea to burn your hand off, but you need to chill the fuck out." 

"What do you mean he's been writing shit in French?" Christophe looks over, suddenly concerned. "He's still doing that?" 

Everyone falls silent and Seung Gil raises an eyebrow. "What do you mean I'm still doing that? When have I ever done that?" 

Christophe doesn't answer, only stands to wander into Seung Gil's room. He emerges with the notebook, opening it. Green eyes skim the pages and his expression shifts from mind annoyance into complete terror. "Seung Gil..." He stammers, closing the notebook. "You... we all can talk about this later. It's Viktor's birthday, it's fucking Christmas. We're done here." He drops it onto the table. As Seung Gil reaches for it, he grabs his wrist. "I'm not letting you read that yet. You can read it later. If you don't remember writing it, maybe we should keep it that way." 

He sighs and sits down again, cradling his head in his hands. It doesn't seem fair that Christophe can read it, and yet he himself can't even read the words he somehow scribbled in his sleep.

"Hotel Dieu de Quebec." Phichit mumbles. "It's a hospital. You wrote down the address the other day. What's the significance?" 

Seung Gil's head rolls to the side. He hasn't thought of that place in years. "...What? I... I used to have doctor's appointments there when I lived in Canada. But it doesn't hold any significance. None whatsoever." 

Yuuri speaks for the first time all morning, shaky fingers messing with the hem of the shirt he's wearing. "That's the hospital where those pills came from." He says nervously. "The prescription belongs to someone named Jean Jacques Leroy. They came from the pharmacy in that hospital, according to the label." 

The Korean shakes his head, standing up and grabbing his barely-eaten cereal. "I don't want to talk about this anymore." He grunts, emptying the bowl before setting it in the sink. "It's irrelevant. I don't know where the pills came from, I just found them. So, are we doing something for Viktor's birthday or not? I refuse to go to a hospital. I'm fine. I have no plans to hurt myself or do anything. Let's drop it." 

Christophe opens his mouth to speak. "Jean Jacques..." He repeats the name Yuuri said and suddenly trails off before just sighing and looking over at Viktor. "Your birthday plans." 

"We're getting out of this house, that's for sure. Too much negativity in here." Viktor murmurs, holding Yuuri's hand and giving it a squeeze. "We could go hang out at the ski resort. They have a rink there, I've been meaning to take Yuuri. I know Yuri and Otabek wanted to snowboard a little bit, too." He stands as well. "So. Everybody get your stuff together. Grab some warm clothes." 

Everyone stands, making their way to their rooms without any objection. Seung Gil follows Phichit to their shared room, clutching the notebook in his not-injured hand. The two are silent as they get themselves ready, until Phichit turns to him. "This is my fault, isn't it?" He asks, his voice breaking. "The whole oujia board thing. I traumatized you, didn't I?" He breathes a heavy sigh, flopping on the bed. "I didn't think it would scare you so bad. I didn't think anything would happen. I thought I would just move the planchet around just to freak you out." 

The Korean presses his lips into a thin line, and he refuses to answer. 

"If I had known it would scare you like this, I wouldn't have done it. I don't know what kind of evil showed up that night, I don't know if you even believe something happened. But I can see it, Seung Gil. You're different."

Shaking his head, Seung Gil pulls his jacket on. "Forget it. Today is supposed to be fun. As soon as we're out of this house, he can't do anything. We'll be outside."

"Who can't do anything, Seung Gil? Whoever he is, he's latched onto you, hasn't he? And he's hurting you." 

"I said forget it." He snaps, glaring at him. "It doesn't matter, Phichit. I'm tired. I don't want to think about it anymore." 

"His name is Jean Jacques, isn't it? Christophe mentioned that you were seeing a guy with that name. That's the name on the pill bottle, and that's the name I got that night from the ouija board. Does he come to you in dreams, is that's what's going on? There's a name for those. Incubus demons. That would explain some things. Why you've been getting sick... they feed off of sexual encounters and gradually weaken--" 

"Shut up!" Seung Gil finally loses his temper, staring at Phichit angrily. His chest rises and falls, hands balled into fists. The burnt skin stings at the pressure placed on it, but he doesn't relax. "I told you to shut the fuck up, Phichit, I don't want to talk about it!" 

He turns on his heel, storming out to the living room where everyone is waiting. Phichit stands there dumbfounded for a moment, staring at the empty doorway. Exhaling, he turns to grab his jacket, but he notices something move out of the corner of his eye. Turning suddenly, his eyes fall upon his own reflection in the mirror, nothing more. Exhaling, he shakes his head, closing his eyes for a moment. When he opens them again, however, he sees him. A tall, tan-skinned man staring right at him. There's an amused look on his face, a look that makes Phichit feel almost sick.

"It's your fault." The man speaks clearly. Phichit blinks a few times, confused upon seeing no one there once he allows himself to look at the mirror again.

***

_"Take this seriously, come on." The man at the front of the room sighs, closing the bible he's holding in his hands. "This is an important topic, a serious topic, and you all need to stop laughing. You should be mature enough." Sighing, Father Dupont sits on the desk. Jean Jacques can't help but giggle behind his hand, knowing that it really shouldn't be all that funny, and yet it is. Father Dupont should know that talking about sex in front of a few teenage boys isn't going to go well. "Okay, let's try this again. So, to summarize. Why do you think it's important to save yourself for marriage?"_

_"Because sex before marriage is bad!" A boy from behind JJ calls out, snorting once the words leave his lips._

_"...Okay. And why? Take this piece of tape for example. What happens if you use the same piece of tape on a lot of different things? It gets disgusting. It doesn't stick to things anymore and nobody wants it." The priest says. "It's the same way with people. People won't respect you if they see how unfaithful you're being to God. If you love someone so much, marry them. Sex is something to be cherished, and if you don't cherish someone enough to wait, you're not just betraying yourself and your partner, but God himself..."_

_JJ rolls his eyes a little bit. This idea of abstinence has been drilled into them since they were children, before they even understood what it all meant. Now, as freshmen in high school, this whole day is dedicated to discussing it. There was a permission slip and everything; with girls in one room and boys in the other. They've spent the day watching stupid videos from the 80's, writing love letters about purity to their "future wives"... and now, as the clock is moving closer to the end of this school day, all of them are antsy._

_"Seung Gil." Father Dupont clears his throat, glancing at the Korean boy hunched over in the corner of the classroom. "You've been awfully quiet all day. What are your thoughts?"_

_The entire class turns, and JJ knows Seung Gil can feel their eyes as he shifts uncomfortably. "I don't want to talk about it." He says meekly, doodling in the corner of his notebook, where he hasn't taken any notes the entire day. JJ wonders if he even wrote a letter during that stupid future wife activity. Honestly... JJ forgot Seung Gil was there. Lately the other had been ditching classes often, he hadn't expected him to come to this one. Seung Gil must have gotten in trouble._ _He feels his heart sink suddenly upon realizing how hard this must be for him. He wonders if Seung Gil has been fighting tears all day, humiliated, trying to distract himself._

_"I have a question, Father Dupont." JJ speaks after clearing his throat._

_T_ _he priest raises an eyebrow. "Yes, Jean Jacques?"_

_"I told you to call me JJ." He grunts. "Anyway. We keep talking about how it's gross if you... you know... before you're married. Like, I get it. But... what if someone didn't have a choice...?" He trails off, noticing how the room is suddenly silent and everyone seems to have tensed up. His eyes flicker back to Seung Gil and instantly he regrets it. The other is staring at him, his eyes wide and his cheeks pink with embarrassment._

_After what feels like an eternity, Father Dupont speaks. "That can happen, sure. But in some ways, the victim does have a choice. Bad decisions lead to consequences--"_

_"No." JJ interjects. "That's not how that works." He remembers it so clearly. There was nothing Seung Gil had done._

_Another long pause. Seung Gil looks like he's about to be physically sick, his hands trembling almost too hard to even keep the pencil in his hand. "Jean Jacques, if you want to have this discussion with me another time, you can. With the last two minutes of class, I have a gift for all of you." He reaches behind the desk, pulling out a box. The man tugs out a silver band, rolling it around between his fingers. "Father Mathieu has so graciously provided promise rings for all of you to remind you all of what we discussed today, the girls get them too."_

_He begins to walk through the rows of desks, placing one in front of each student. There's no laughter or inappropriate comments. Only the sound of metal hitting wood. The bell rings, and JJ watches Seung Gil practically sprint out of the room, his backpack wide open and the ring in the palm of his hand._

_JJ finds Seung Gil in the bathrooms. He recognizes his shoes and, unfortunately, the sound of his crying echoing off tile walls. Gently he knocks and the crying stops. The door opens and blue eyes meet a pair of swollen brown ones. JJ notices that Seung Gil is still holding the small piece of metal, chewing his lower lip. "Are you okay?" JJ finally asks the other, shifting his weight awkwardly between his feet._

_"Why did you ask that question?" Seung Gil asks hastily, rubbing his eyes. "...Did it happen to you, too?"_

_He rapidly shakes his head, his eyes wide. "N-no." He says. "I just... thought it would be a good question..." He notices the way Seung Gil turns away, humiliated that he just revealed his biggest secret to him. But JJ already knows. He's known for a long time. Seung Gil's shoulders tremble and he watches the other roll the stupid keepsake around in his trembling palms._

_"Did you really look at it?" The Korean whispers. "It says 'true love waits' on it. What a fucking joke." He leans up against the stall wall, turning to JJ sadly. "Do you really think the Lord has a plan for all of us? Do you really think he actually loves all of us?" He lowers his gaze to the ground again._

_"Of course." He says, in an effort to be comforting. He can't say his own faith wasn't shaken after he found out what was happening. "He has a plan. He loves everyone. I know this for sure."_

_"So tell me, if he loves everyone, if he has plans to keep all of us safe, why do bad things still happen? Remember what Father Dupont told Amelie after her dad got in that car accident? That God never gives us more than we can handle?" Exhaling, he holds the ring between his thumb and his index finger, glaring at it through teary eyes. "That's not true. I can't handle it. I think about it a lot. I've racked my brain for a long time, trying to come up with something I've done wrong. I can't figure it out, but I must have done something, right? I... I wanted to wait. I really did. I wanted to fall in love too..." The ring drops from his hand, falling into the toilet with a soft plop._

_JJ shakes his head, his eyes widening. "You shouldn't do that. God loves everyone, it's just..."_

_"There's no God." Seung Gil declares, looking at him solemnly. "And if he loves me, I certainly don't love him back. I've been asking for his help for a long time, but he never answered and I'm tired of waiting. Today just made things clear. Writing letters to a future wife? Give me a break. I'm already ruined. It's like that dumb demonstration earlier with the black and white paint. Once the black paint hits the white paint and makes it gray, you can't take it out. But I didn't get a choice." He places his hand on the handle, ready to flush it down, but JJ places his hand over Seung Gil's._

_"Stop." He breathes, closing his eyes. A thick silence hangs between them before he tugs his own ring off, dropping it right next to Seung Gil's. "Now. Now you can do it."_

_The other's wrist moves, the sound of rushing water is heard, and the rings disappear. JJ turns to look at him, biting his lip as he watches fresh tears slip down Seung Gil's pale cheeks. "I wanted to fall in love too." Seung Gil repeats, burying his face in his hands. JJ places his arms around his shoulders and holds him close to his chest, allowing the other to completely break down in his arms._

_"You will. I know you will." JJ finds he's crying too._

_For the next few weeks, JJ doesn't leave his side. He sits awake with him at ungodly hours, talking Seung Gil down from nightmares. It can be exhausting, but when he thinks of the years Seung Gil has spent dealing with it alone... it's all worth it. He's glad to listen, even if all Seung Gil does is weep rather than explain. He answers desperate phone calls from him, he brings him painkillers for when his hangovers are too painful for him to focus in school. He supports him, he listens to him... and one day, a day just like any other, he realizes he loves him._

 


	16. sedecim

"Stop moping." The demon sighs from his spot in the corner of the room, a bored expression on his face as he watches the boy in the hospital bed. "I'd think you would have learned by now. You're not waking up any faster, are you? I'm surprised you haven't run out of tears." Yawning, he stands and makes his way over.

JJ doesn't look up or acknowledge he's heard him and the demon clicks his tongue, chuckling to himself as he sits on the bed, reaching up to run his fingers through his hair and force him to look at him. JJ's eyes are puffy, swimming with more unshed tears. "Let me talk to him. I want some time with him, that's all I want." JJ practically begs. Sure, he's found a way to communicate with Seung Gil, but short bursts of sleep paralysis aren't enough to tell him all he needs to. That, and the demon in front of him is unaware that he's figured out this method. 

"Why? So you can tell him how sorry you are? I hate to break it to you, darling Jean Jacques, but it's a little late for half-assed apologies. Or maybe you want to beg him to come to Quebec and save your ass. But honestly, what's the point? He's dumb as shit, he still doesn't even remember you even after you two were  _soooo_  in love. Takes a special type of stupid to not remember the person who stopped you from putting a bullet through your brain, don't you think?"

"Shut up. Don't you dare talk about him that way." His voice rises in pitch and volume, cracking slightly as another tear rolls down his cheek. 

"Ohhh." The demon coos, tightening his hold on JJ's chin. "So tough. What the fuck can you do? Pathetic. You always have been, you know. Probably the most mentally weak human I've encountered thus far. In my thousands of years of fucking around with people, I thought I'd seen the lowest of the low. I should be thanking you. You and Seung Gil have made this fun for me again. It's too easy." 

He tries to sit up, but he doesn't move more than a few inches. "If it's so easy," JJ snaps, tensing. "Why haven't you gotten Seung Gil to kill himself? That's your goal isn't it? So if you're so powerful and he's as stupid as you think he is, why is he still alive?"

"You see, that was the goal at first. But then I thought about it. You two are so easily to play with. The fun thing about Seung Gil is I can push him so close... I can put things in his head that aren't real, I can manipulate him and make him promises and he falls for it every time. The best part about it is that his friends are slowly beginning to resent him. He's struggling, he's hurting, and yet they think of him as an instigator. And that upsets him. If I killed him off, I don't get to watch him fall apart. He'll get there. I could get inside his head at any time and end it all for him. But driving him to it has been so god damn exciting, wouldn't you say?" He grins, leaning down and pressing his forehead against JJ's. "Don't lie, don't you get a bit of a rush from seeing him in pain? I think you do. Even if you don't, I'm using your body, so you get to see all of it anyway. You even get to feel how tight he is, just like old times, and yet you don't even thank me..." 

JJ tries so hard to shove him away, weak hands pushing against the creature's broad chest. "Get the fuck off of me. You're a monster, how could you do this to him?"

Red eyes curve into crescents and the room is filled with booming laughter. "I'm the monster? Oh, that's adorable." He giggles. "Let's trace this waaaay back and you can tell me who's the monster. We've got Seung Gil Lee, the tiniest kid in the fifth grade. Still messes up his English. Has a stuffed dog he still needs to sleep with. Laughs at everything. Doesn't usually cry even when his classmates make jokes about his eyes. Awesome at math but rarely completes assignments because he gets distracted by just how damn  _beautiful_  life is. Ringing a bell?"

"Shut up." 

"And then we have another Seung Gil Lee! Drunk constantly, feels sad but doesn't know why because he blocked out a solid chunk of his life, putting him behind in school. Hated by his friends and, while they won't admit it, his bible-banging parents. Doesn't smile unless he's fucked up on something. Forced to grow up too fast." He plays with JJ's hair, knowing he can't do anything about it. "And all because  _you_  didn't help him when you had the chance." 

Hot tears sting JJ's eyes and he shakes his head. "Shut up! I didn't think there was anything I could do. I was a kid too, you know. I didn't understand what I saw Father Mathieu doing, how could I have known to tell someone? What would I have said? I didn't want to get him in trouble..."

"If that's what makes you feel better." He shrugs. "Just know he's in the state he's in because the only person who could have saved him chose not to. Imagine. If you had left that storage closet and told your mother or father or another priest. You could have prevented years of torture, maybe even helped him get some therapy." He crawls off the bed and makes his way to the door of the hospital room. "You knew exactly what was going on for years, and even as you matured, you chose to keep your mouth shut and let it go on. So, before you call  _me_  a monster, think back to who let it happen. By saying nothing, you chose the side of Father Mathieu. You made your bed, and you get to lay in it." 

***

He hasn't been bothered all day, he notices. As he sits in a ski lodge on his phone, he smiles softly to himself and sips the cup of hot cocoa Chris made him. He can taste the insane amount of peppermint schnapps the Swiss man used and his nose wrinkles. "You didn't tell me it was spiked." He grunts, and the blonde looks at him innocently. "I guess I shouldn't be surprised." 

"You really shouldn't." Yuuri murmurs, obviously glad Seung Gil seems to be in a better mood. 

Seung Gil nods, leaning on Chris and scrolling through his phone. This was the type of break he had been looking forward to, something relaxing, but it had been anything but that. He shrugs his jacket off, shaking some snowflakes out of his hair, he feels much better. "It's pretty packed for it being Christmas." He comments, and the others nod in agreement. The wait for the lifts had been insane and the slopes were crowded. It hadn't stopped Otabek and Yuriy from going for another run though while the rest opted for lazily spending time by the giant fireplace.

Looking around, Seung Gil notices that everything is seemingly normal. Nothing sounds fuzzy. And there are no mirrors where he can see his reflection at all. He uses this as an opportunity to head to the search box on Facebook. He slowly types out a name, wondering if he'll have any luck. If he's being honest, he's still not sure whether he made him up, if JJ is someone he put together in his mind. While he's awake, while he's not in a vulnerable place, he might as well check. He has nothing to lose. 

Taking a moment to collect himself, he looks over at Chris and Phichit, who seem to be watching him intently. He gives a little wave, unsure of why they're staring, and he lets himself look at the results. 

Jean Jacques Leroy. Two mutual friends. Quebec, Canada. 

He holds his breath as he clicks, enlarging the image. He sees a familiar man holding a golden retriever puppy, smiling brightly. He lets himself scroll through the pictures, finding himself smiling as he sees more photos of him in different places with different people. Jean Jacques Leroy is real. Whether this is the one he's been interacting with however... he doesn't know. This man gives off a certain warmth and friendliness he doesn't get from the Jean Jacques he's been with. He exits his pictures, and goes to read statuses, to learn more about who he is or if there really is a difference. But instead, there's a flood of posts from others. 

"Missing you." "Get better soon." 

He raises an eyebrow and continues to scroll through, and comes to a few conclusions that only confuse him more. One: Jean Jacques is in a coma, and has been for roughly a month. Two: He went to the same Catholic elementary school and middle school as him. Three: He spends his time doing community service, specifically with abused children.

And fourth: This isn't the man who's been taunting him. 

Sighing, he puts his phone in his pocket, his head aching as he tries once again to try and make sense of it all. His fingers touch a piece of paper and he tugs it out, unfolding it and taking a good look. 

It's a paper snowflake. A familiar one. And suddenly, he feels his heart squeeze painfully in his chest.


	17. septendecim

The mind is a strange thing. There are days where you can control it, you can convince yourself of anything you feel like believing, you can push things out of it if they don't benefit you anymore. And yet, some days you can't. Some days the memories expelled find their way back, sometimes you can't turn the thoughts off. It's funny how you can mold reality to however you want it, but the past always has a way of catching back up no matter how long you've gone without thinking about it. At least, Seung Gil thinks so.

It had started innocently enough, with a game of "never have I ever" around a table littered with half-empty beer cans and cocktails made from cheap liquor. Low-blows are thrown, with plenty of obnoxious laughs echoing off cabin walls.

"Never have I ever had sex in my parents' house." Phichit declares, grinning triumphantly as everyone who has sips the drink in front of them.

"That means you're a loser." Chris says, obviously bitter after finishing three drinks since the game started twenty minutes ago. He narrows a pair of slightly bloodshot green eyes and Phichit flashes a smile.

"No, it means I have a mother who works from home and has insane hearing." The Thai boy fires back. "Anyway, it's Yuuri's turn. It's not our fault you're a godless skank, Christophe. Cheer up."

Everyone turns to look at Yuuri expectantly. He drums his fingers, thinking hard before he opens his mouth to speak. "Never have I ever taken someone's virginity." Yuuri looks around, eager to see who drinks to that. Another loud swear word is heard from Chris, and Seung Gil sits silently, staring into his poorly-mixed rum and Coke. He takes a sip.

_It’s dark, but Seung Gil can still make out every feature of JJ’s face. He cups JJ’s cheeks as once again their mouths desperately find each other’s. His lips taste like bubblegum toothpaste (since he hates peppermint and makes a point to comment on it every time Seung Gil so much as glances at the tube) and feel softer than anything else in this world, in Seung Gil’s mind. He pulls back only to catch his breath and JJ stares down at him like he has the whole world in his arms._

_“We shouldn’t.” Seung Gil says, his voice barely above a whisper. “You should wait for someone who really really loves you.”_

_JJ pulls back suddenly, sitting between parted legs on his knees. “So you don’t love me?”_

_Seung Gil props himself up on his elbows, panicking at how wrong it came out. “I do. I didn’t say that right, Jean. I do, I really do… it’s just…”_

_“I… okay. I just… wanted to make sure.” He mutters, and he notices how his voice cracks. “If you don’t want to, I’ll respect it and I’ll wait. I’m sorry—“_

_“Don’t apologize.” Seung Gil cuts him off, pushing himself to sit up. He cups his cheeks and gazes into the other’s eyes deeply. “I want this. Really badly. But what about the demonstration with the paint? What about waiting? You have the chance to do that and I want you to—“_

_“What about waiting, Seung Gil? Are you still going on about that? That doesn’t even matter. If protecting my ‘innocence’ is your goal, if pushing me to wait for marriage and to have a nice shot as going to Heaven is what you’re trying to do… I hope you know I’ve already fucked that up. We both did the second we started seeing each other like this. Hell, I fucked it up when I was seven and lied about eating the last slice of my mom’s birthday cake. Lying and stealing and boys kissing boys pisses God off regardless. Doing this with someone I love doesn’t scare me even a little bit. If you want to wait for your own comfort, I’ll wait as long as I need to. But don’t do this for the sake of protecting me. This is different. This isn’t you forcing me to do anything. This is different because it’s us.” JJ places his hands over Seung Gil’s on his cheeks and he smiles softly. “I’m going to hell anyway.”_

_“You’re such a dumbass.” Seung Gil mumbles, bumping their noses together. To him it makes sense. Of course he feels guilty, of course he’d rather have JJ wait like he himself had planned to. But he’d be lying if he said he hadn’t stayed up before, thinking about the last person who touched him, the only person, and how he’d do anything to burn his skin off or at least have been given a choice. He and JJ are two stupid kids in love, reckless and highly emotional with nothing much to go off of but raw feelings. But it’s a whole lot better than what he got. And JJ’s right, it’s different. This time… this time they both want each other more than words could ever express. This time, Seung Gil feels like he’s ready._

_Gentle hands slowly remove articles of clothing, bodies intertwine in tangled sheets. It hurts at first and his breathing gets labored the second flesh touches flesh out of sheer anxiety, but JJ talks him through it, fingers affectionately combing through his hair. The two move carefully, slowly, and Seung Gil finds they constantly make eye contact as if to look for some form of approval, smiling timidly at each other. They settle for nods, breathy “I love you”s, and gentle kisses._

_As they lie there, sticky with sweat once it’s done, Seung Gil turns to look at him. There’s a look in JJ’s eyes that causes his stomach to flip and his heart to nearly beat out of his chest._

_"I really do love you." JJ says._

_"How much?"_

_"With everything in me." His voice drops to a whisper._

_Seung Gil believes him._

“Heyyyy.” Phichit snaps his fingers in front of his face a few times and the Korean looks up, blinking and snapping out of it. “Tell us who.”

He only shakes his head. If it’s another illusion, he’s not about to say it. He’s also not about the say the name “Jean Jacques Leroy” at this table. They know the name all too well now. But it felt so real, so vivid, so familiar… he can’t see how it’s anything other than a flashback rather than a dream. Nothing else JJ has shown him has ever felt like that.

“That’s none of your business.” He taunts. “My turn.”

***

It's around four in the morning, he's reasonably tipsy, and he's holding that paper snowflake in his palm, flipping it over repeatedly to inspect every part. There are a few crayon smudges on it, it's been ripped in some of the corners. Phichit is passed out on his bed next to him and he decides that maybe he should follow suit. After all, he could use some answers. 

He closes his eyes, but falling asleep doesn't prove to be easy. He opens his eyes out of frustration, and there, he sees him. 

"It was easier this time. The sleep-paralysis thing." JJ says, and his hands cup Seung Gil's cheeks. "Why are you looking at me like that?" He blinks, noticing how Seung Gil's lips are curved into a light smile. 

"I have a question." 

"Ask away." 

Seung Gil's grin grows wider. "Do you still hate peppermint?"

A loud laugh escapes his lips, a familiar laugh, and Seung Gil can't help but join him. JJ pushes dark, long hair out of the Korean boy's face, gazing down at him the way he had back then. 

"With everything in me." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for taking so long! I've been really busy and made a big move across the world, but I'm back! <3 Missed you all sooooo much.


	18. decem et octo

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another more difficult chapter, please pay attention to the content warnings and be careful. Love you. <3

JJ holds him close and Seung Gil only wishes he could move his arms to reciprocate it. "I knew I wouldn't have time to explain all I need to." JJ says softly, fingers gently moving through Seung Gil's hair. "So I've written everything out for you in that notebook, okay?"

"Written what out?" The Korean doesn't understand exactly what's going on, but he doesn't want to let JJ go. Not now. Not now that he's realized his significance and who exactly he is. He's spent the last years of his life feeling lonely, he doesn't want to go back. "You're here now, Jean, so you don't need to go anywhere. Everything is okay, right? You're here... and I remember things. So it's okay..."

The man hovering over him doesn't say anything, his lips pressing into a thin line. "It's not. You don't even remember _half_ of everything. You know who I am, and that's a start. But there's so much more to it. And I just... need you to understand that it's not impossible to fix this, but we have lots of work to do." 

"I don't know what you're talking about." 

JJ stares for a while, those light eyes Seung Gil has been seeing so much lately seemingly searching his own. Seung Gil's fingers twitch and he knows what that means: here in a moment he's about to lose track of him. He bites his lip, making a mental note to check the notebook upon waking up. "Listen," JJ says after a moment of silence. "I'm sorry for what I did and what I'm about to do. It's going to hurt. It's really going to hurt. And if you decide not to follow the instructions I left for you, I'll understand, but... you should. If you want to live, you should." 

"What are you saying?" He rasps out, but JJ's image is rapidly fading. Seung Gil is only able to move his arm to reach for him as he disappears completely. He pushes himself to sit up.

The room he's in is dimly lit, and when he moves, he bumps another figure. There's no one at eye-level, so he looks down, and the image he sees stirs up those feelings of dread that have been resurfacing so often lately. There's a child there, kneeling in front of a latticed window, eyes downcast as he fidgets with the hem of the shirt he's wearing. 

He hears a voice from the other side. "I know it's you, Seung Gil Lee. I know the sound of your voice too well for that screen to protect you. And I know there are things you're not telling me. Things that you know God won't forgive." 

"I haven't done anything wrong." The little one insists. "I can't think of anything else. I can't. Father Mathieu.." The floor creaks and from behind the screen, he notices a pair of familiar eyes. 

"Stop lying. Liars go to hell too." He snaps. "But you know... there's a way I could help you. Come back here." 

The child stands and Seung Gil reaches over, grabbing his shoulder but gasping as the boy in front of him slips through his fingers like sand. He shuffles forward. "Don't." Seung Gil warns, but neither person acknowledges him. "Don't go with him." Father Mathieu. Where has he heard that name? Where has he heard this exact conversation? And why is he so scared? 

The boy in front of him takes a chalice, drinking from it quietly, and the familiar taste of communion wine fills his own mouth. He feels the firm grip of the older man on his wrist, though he's not the one being held. Slamming his eyes shut, he covers his ears. _It's not real. Close your eyes. It will go away. You'll wake up._

It doesn't go away. "You'll have to try harder than that to get rid of it." The voice he hears this time is unfamiliar. It doesn't belong to the child, to the priest, to himself, to JJ. It's deep, it's raspy, and its tone is biting and impatient. As he turns to face the source, his eyes meet a pair of red ones. He screams.

***

His room is cold, cold enough to where his breath comes out as clouds and goosebumps rise on pale skin. The notebook sits on the pillow, the pen sticking out from it as if someone was still writing in it. Inhaling sharply, he pulls it close and flips to the first page. He recognizes the handwriting from copied notes and love letters courtesy of that big, dopey Canadian boy. The penmanship has improved, but he can tell by the way he doesn't dot his i's and the way his lowercase g's look more like q's. The words are written not in English, but French, and for a while he stares as he struggles to make sense of every word. 

The first page only has an address on it. The same one on the pill bottle. Room 628. 

It's the next page that's difficult. Not just because it's scribbled down in a language he hasn't used in years, but what JJ has written out for him. 

"There's a reason he communicates with you through reflections, Seung Gil. There's a reason he's able to manipulate what you see when you look at yourself. And I'm part of it. In fact, I would say I'm nearly _all_ of it. But if I were you, I would have done the same thing, blocking it out. Leaving Canada gave you the chance to leave it behind and start working on a new you, but as a result I guess you didn't have many memories to build off of. In many ways, you're a blank canvas. Well. Not really. You're like... if someone had painted something scary and awful and then decided to paint over it in white. It's all still there. But you don't want it to be. He's chipping away at it to bring it all back. And he can use mirrors to force you to look at it. He can use what he deems to be your inability to reflect on things to hurt you. He can also get strength from you through sex, since he knows how much significance it used to hold for you. But make no mistake. He's not an incubus. He's so much worse.

"We're both Jean Jacques Leroy, but we have different goals. How we need to go about achieving them, however, is similar, and that's where it gets confusing. These painful things I mentioned, the stuff you've forgotten... we're both trying to get you to remember it. We're both trying to get you to remember _me_. Depending which version you recall, the result of this changes. I'm trying to show you someone who loved you, but fucked up. Someone who had good intentions, but who ultimately did more harm than good. The one he's trying to show you was a self-serving jackass with no spine or conscience. The problem is that I was both. Both JJs are completely real. My goal is for you to find me, so I can apologize and fix it. His, however... is for you to cease to exist, to use my shortcomings to get you to end it all. And once that happens, I also cease to exist. Instead of going to heaven or hell or our next lives or wherever we would hypothetically go, we make him stronger. As of right now, you're the only thing that can prevent it. I'm in a coma currently, which is how he's able to use my body to reach you. 

"Right now you're probably thinking 'okay, so I know who I need to believe, so this shouldn't be too hard.' And it does sound simple. But when you factor in all that you've forgotten, it's daunting. I'm going to try and help by telling you what I remember. Your mind might change. You might not want to come find me, which is completely fair. But please. Just hear me out and think carefully. If I had my way, there would be no demon and I would let you continue suppressing it and pretending it never happened. Honestly, you could. If you continue to pretend, if you continue to endure what he's doing, sooner or later they'll pull the plug on me. I'll die, but he'll still be around and my body is his to keep. And he'll find a way to keep holding on to you. But if you come find me and we figure this out, I promise I'll keep you safe. It starts on the next page."

Seung Gil sets the book down, inhaling sharply. Does he even want to know? Is an eternity of this better than having to go through it all again? He pushes a hand through his hair before he nervously turns to the next page. "I trust you, JJ." He mumbles, a weak smile twitching the corners of his lips. The smile doesn't last long. 

"He always did pick on you. From the day you and your family joined our parish to the day you left it, you were a constant target. And not for one specific reason. He commented on your face a lot, on your accent, on how quickly you were able to learn, on your passion. It was a commonly known fact that Father Mathieu adored you, that his jokes were meant to get closer to you. I know I was jealous for a while. I wanted to be in his good graces too. But I noticed he stopped being so fun and lighthearted with you, that he started to get increasingly impatient, that he would snap when you messed up, but he'd always end his rants with a nice little comment about how cute you looked that day. One day I noticed you stopped smiling when he said those things. And one day I noticed you stopped smiling altogether. I hadn't thought much of it. I think I noticed there was a real problem that Christmas Eve when you shoved me away after I gave you that paper snowflake. You had never looked at me like that before. But what was odd about it was that you didn't seem mad at me, but scared. We'd been friends up until then, so it confused me. Things weren't the same after that.

"This had been going on for roughly two years when I figured it out. My mom was in charge of church records and had her own office, so sometimes I would stay late with her after school and do my homework there. Sometimes you would come too, but soon you stopped staying there longer than you needed to. That day I had been with her, and I went downstairs to get something she needed from a closet. While I was in there, Mathieu came in to the room with you, so there was no way I could leave without being noticed. He looked angry, you were crying, and I didn't know what I could do. I didn't understand what I saw that day, not until later on. But the fact of the matter is that I didn't tell anyone. I hate myself for it every day. Even after I leaned what exactly happened, I was too afraid to say anything about it. I didn't think anyone would believe me, and I was scared of embarrassing you. It's my fault you're hurting as badly as you are, because I didn't know how to get you the help you had needed. I think about it every day, I sometimes wake up in a cold sweat when I remember how your crying sounded against the hand he pushed against your mouth. I may have been dishonest by keeping it from you, but everything else I ever said to you was sincere. Your life, your very being, means the world to me. Even when we lost contact, I hoped you were still living, because I knew it was my fault if you weren't. I'm sorry, Seung Gil."

Tears he's held back for years pool in tired eyes, drops falling and causing the ink to branch off in tiny threads, blurring the painful words he'd just read. He swats them away, black smearing on his palms, and he reads the last part:

"It's been years. You and I have grown apart and haven't said anything to each other until recently. Soon you became nothing more than a painful memory to me, and I faded from your brain entirely. But if it's any consolation, Seung Gil... getting inside your mind again helped me to realize that I'm still painfully and irrevocably in love with it. Underneath all of the negativity, you've got some beautiful ideas, insane potential, and some great plans. If you don't hate me... I would still like to be a part of them?

"Forever yours, Jean Jacques Leroy." 


	19. decem et novem

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: recreational drug use, flashbacks

It hurts worse than he thought it would. He believed the sheer joy in having the only person he had ever really loved back would far outweigh whatever horrible news the other had to tell him, but it doesn't. As he sits here, holding his knees against his chest, he wonders which JJ is worse. Yes, one has the potential and the intention to do more damage, but the feeling of pure betrayal stings worse in this moment. And what's more... he still doesn't know the full truth. He knows what JJ saw, but he can't remember everything he himself had experienced at the hands of his community's treasured religious leader. 

There were always unpleasant feelings he had associated with faith. He often felt resentment, uneasiness... Certain noises and sensations sent him into a panic, and yet, he wouldn't let himself remember why. It was better that way, at least that was what he told himself. Some days were harder than others. Some mornings the sadness was so heavy he couldn't bring himself to leave his bed and he just wasn't sure where it came from. But now... now he isn't sure where to go from here. It was easier to brush things off when he was younger and understood less about the world. Now he has seen how evil people can be, now there's no way he could help himself to forget it like he had back then. He's stuck with it. 

He wraps the blankets around himself, biting his lip hard to stifle his sobs. He wants to stop all of his thoughts, maybe sleep for a little while, but he knows sleeping won't keep him safe. In fact, sleeping might make it worse. Sleeping holds the possibility of encountering the demon who started all of this. He doesn't want to see his face. Not now. 

Pushing himself to sit up, he wanders towards the door and wipes his tears. He hears music playing, his friends' voices... and he's sure that they're all preparing to party again to offset the constant negativity that's plagued the trip thus far. It might be good for him. Getting drunk always helped in the past. He nudges the door open with his foot and shuffles out to where Chris is pouring shots for everyone. Phichit darts over, throwing his arms around him as Otabek hands him a shot glass filled to the brim with whisky and he accepts it. He accepts the next one too. And the next one. He takes them until his face feels tingly, his pale cheeks are flushed, and he's giggling at a joke he doesn't get. More people show up, the music gets louder, and he finds himself outside with Phichit. 

"So, what did you say you brought again?" Seung Gil slurs, taking another sip of the beer in his hand. 

"The question is what _didn't_ I bring." Phichit flashes a cheeky grin. "Depends how fucked up you wanted to get. But I have to be real with you. I don't think getting high is a solid idea." 

The Korean takes a minute to think, ignoring Phichit's warning. "It's been a minute since I dropped acid. And I need some clarity." 

Phichit raises an eyebrow, obviously shocked by the not-so-thinly-veiled suggestion. "Thought you were going to say something more tame. You sure you're down for that? Given your... state of mind as of late, I'm worried you'll have a bad trip." 

Seung Gil shakes his head. "I'm fine." He says hastily. "I'll just stay away from mirrors and I won't sleep." 

"What is that supposed to mean?" 

"That's how he talks to me." Alcohol has obviously lowered his inhibitions. "But he can't talk to me if I avoid him. I feel so good. It'll be fun." He coos softly, nuzzling his nose against Phichit's cheek. The Thai boy looks up at him, nervously. He's not sure what to say to that, but he knows for a fact that giving Seung Gil such an unpredictable drug might have serious consequences. After all... he's been unstable sober. And if stoic, introverted Seung Gil is being this touchy-feely, he knows he's probably close to blacking out. 

Phichit pries Seung Gil off of him, chuckling. "Stick with alcohol for now, okay?" 

Seung Gil opens his mouth to argue, but Phichit slips back inside before he can even make a sound. He attempts to follow him and continue begging. Phichit is a little too fast, however, and he loses him in the crowd. It's a good thing he knows where he keeps it. He makes his way back to their room, grabs Phichit's suitcase, and rummages through it until he finds exactly what he needs. It's not a good idea, and part of him knows this. And yet, he's willing to risk a bad trip for answers. He stares at the tab in his hand for a while before placing it on his tongue. 

***

There are so many colors and patterns and he definitely feels warm inside. The music echoes differently, and this song he thought he was familiar with shifts into something more complex, something he couldn't hope to understand if he tried. His feet don't feel like they're touching the floor. He flops down on the couch and stares blankly ahead, leaning on Chris upon realizing he's there too. The carpet shifts beneath them, at least it feels like it does, and he grips the side of Chris' shirt as if it's the only thing keeping him from falling. 

He glances up at Chris, dark eyes meeting green ones. For a while, it's almost as if he can see gears moving behind them, and he convinces himself that if he looks hard enough, he'll be able to read his mind completely. The refection of himself in Chris' eyes is what breaks his train of thought. He examines his reflection, but someone moves behind him.

"You're not supposed to be here." He says, his head tilting. 

"Who isn't supposed to be here?" Chris shifts uncomfortably, cupping Seung Gil's face and turning his head towards the light. His pupils are dilated. "You're high." 

Seung Gil desperately tries to look into Chris' eyes again, and he knows it's no mistake. JJ is there clear as day, right behind him. And the smile on his face is so unsettling he actually feels every muscle in his body tense. He pushes himself to stand up, shaking his head. He makes his way towards the bedroom, knowing there aren't any reflective surfaces. As he turns the corner into the hallway, he notices JJ standing there with that same menacing grin. The demon turns, wandering into the room Seung Gil shares with Phichit, and Seung Gil follows him despite the fact he was trying to escape him just a few moments ago.

He's shocked to find the room empty, but the door closes behind him. Soft music fills his ears, but it gets louder and louder until the chanting of a Catholic choir drowns out the noises from the party. The room in front of him seems to melt and he reaches forward to grab onto a blanket thrown haphazardly on the bed, but it turns to white liquid in his palm. It's sticky, it's thick... and he immediately looks up to notice a dark looming figure. They reach out and cup his cheek and their thumbs smear away the tears he didn't know he was crying.

"No more crying. Do you want people to hear you?" 

He shakes his head. "No, Father Mathieu." He whispers on impulse, and the way the name feels on his tongue fills him with a sense of hopelessness. He bows his head, the sudden realization causing his heart to sink. 

"Are you going to be a good boy and keep this a secret like you said you would?" 

"Yes." He responds meekly. "I'll do what you told me to. Everything." His voice cracks as the hand forces him to look up again and he finds himself staring into a familiar face, one that he had forgotten and for a good reason. 

The priest chuckles and bends so he's at eye-level. "Everything?" He purrs, and Seung Gil looks away immediately. "You have a big, big sin to atone for. If you want God to forgive you, you'll have to do whatever I ask." 

"I will. I'll do as you say, Father." His tone is pleading, the tears come faster, his hands ball into fists as firm hands grip his shoulders and pull him closer. "I'll be better. I want to go to Heaven." He still doesn't know what he did wrong, what grave sin he allegedly committed. The priest never made an effort to tell him. All he knows is that he has to make up for it, and this is how it has to be. At least, that's what the older man in front of him has made him believe. 

He needs to find JJ, he concludes. The real one.

***

Phichit giggles drunkenly as he and Chris stumble towards whichever empty bed they can find. "You sure you want to do this?" Phichit asks, chuckling as Chris nips at his neck. 

"I mean, why not? Everyone's fucking except for us and Seung, and I bet he's probably asleep. He's a heavy sleeper too. He wouldn't even hear us. And if you're worried about this changing anything about our dynamic as friends, you don't have to worry about it. Viktor and I messed around a lot back in the day. Pre-Yuuri." He explains as he the door open to reveal a naked Seung Gil underneath some tan stranger who is thrusting into him at a slow pace. "Oh shit. Sorry, Seung. Didn't mean to interrupt!" He shuts the door behind him, turning to Phichit. "Guess we can do your room?"

Phichit's expression is contorted into pure horror. "Did you see that? Did you see who he was with? Open that door again." 

"What?" Chris blinks. "Why?"

Phichit shoves past, shoving the door open to see Seung Gil alone this time, fully clothed, staring blankly at the door with his arms outstretched as if he had been trying to reach an exit. Phichit runs over, placing his hand on his forehead. His skin is deathly cold, and his face remains unmoving as he stares blankly. Chris calls his name, but Seung Gil isn't immediately responsive. His skin is paler than usual, nearly transparent, his eyes are wide with terror and are underlined by dark circles and tear-stains. Phichit taps Seung Gil's cheeks repeatedly, begging him to snap out of whatever haze he's in. The Thai man turns to Chris. 

"The demon. Jean Jacques. Or whatever. He was here. He looked at me. We need to do something." His breathing is shallow and rapid.

Seung Gil shifts in Phichit's arms, staring up at him. "It hurts." He whispers, his voice hoarse and high-pitched. Chris leaves the room and returns with water, forcing their trembling friend to drink. If Chris had any doubts, they're all erased. This isn't Seung Gil acting out for attention, this is something real and more terrifying than he could have ever fathomed. He runs his fingers through Seung Gil's hair, murmuring softly to him until Seung Gil doesn't look as scared as his breathing is a bit more even. 

"You okay?" Phichit asks and inches closer, leaning his chin on the top of the Korean's head. He responds by nodding, curling closer against his friends. 

"I need to go back to Quebec." He slurs, his eyes only half-open. "And I'm going tomorrow." 

Chris and Phichit exchange a look. It doesn't make sense why he would want to go now, especially since the topic of his time in Canada was always touchy. Whenever it was mentioned, Seung Gil always either zoned out or would snap and try to change the subject. It had been made clear to them that it wasn't particularly a great experience. So, naturally, the two are nervous about what this means. Neither of them know why talking about the past makes Seung Gil so uncomfortable, why he never seems to want to discuss childhood memories with them and withdraws from conversations about any time period earlier than high school. Maybe _he_ isn't the one who wants to go to Quebec. "Why?" 

Seung Gil hesitates, focusing a little too hard on the ceiling as if something is up there. "I need to find someone." 

"And who do you need to find?" 

Seung Gil pulls out of his friends' arms, grabbing the notebook sitting on the nightstand. "This will explain it. I don't want to talk about it." He flips to the pages JJ scribbled in earlier and waves a hand dismissively once he's deposited it in Chris' hands. 

Phichit helps Seung Gil to stand and walks him out to the couch. "Come on. You're not going to sleep in here." He explains, and Seung Gil doesn't bother to argue with him. His mind is still a mess of negative emotions. He can see Father Mathieu's face in nearly every surface, and he knows he won't be getting any sleep with these horrifying images he had pushed out of his mind reappearing. He misses the days when living with a demon in his head was only a nuisance, not a complete never-ending nightmare of past traumas. 

Chris stares at the French words written on the page, narrowing his eyes. He knows Seung Gil's handwriting from copying down his homework, and he knows this doesn't match. At first, it doesn't make much sense. It's almost as if he's reading something he shouldn't be. A sober Seung Gil might not want him to read whatever this is, but after seeing how scared he looked earlier, after witnessing Seung Gil's rapid descent into madness, he knows he has to. 

Nothing could have prepared him for what he figures out. It doesn't take long for him to pick up on what this person is implying happened. He thinks back on his infamous 'altar boy' comment and realizes exactly why Seung Gil reacted the way he had. There were other signs, too. Signs he had missed. Signs such as Seung Gil's obsession with perfection and fear of making mistakes, the animosity he feels towards religion... even the way he had panicked a couple months ago when Christophe gently pulled his hair to get his attention. They were little things, or so Chris had thought. When Seung Gil mentioned his Catholic family and his contempt for all-things-Christianity, he assumed it was just because Seung Gil felt that faith limited him, not that it had _wronged_ him.

He closes the notebook, wandering out to Phichit, who has Seung Gil wrapped up in a blanket with a cup of tea in his hands. "We need to let him go to Quebec." Chris says, joining them.

"And why is that?" 

"Just like he said. He needs to find someone." Chris reaches to stroke Seung Gil's cheek. "Someone he loves." 

Their eyes meet in a silent moment of understanding and a knowing smile tugs at Seung Gil's lips.

"Someone I love." He repeats.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Does anyone still read this?


	20. viginti

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After losing a bookmark, I'm feeling discouraged and I think I might quit with this fic. I don't believe anyone really follows it, and so I either want to rewrite this chapter or abandon the story entirely.

Seung Gil didn't sleep, and he refuses to as he scrolls through different websites, looking for the cheapest flight out. He feels completely drained after last night, and now that he was forced to relive something he had been suppressing for so long, he has no desire to interact with anyone. Chris nudges the door open. In one hand he has a bowl of cereal, in the other he holds a few aspirin. 

"Thought you might want to eat something." He mutters. "You sure you don't want us to come with you?" Chris asks as Seung Gil tugs out his credit card to pay for his flight of choice. The Korean simply shakes his head as he types in the number, and Chris doesn't plan on pushing. After all, he has no idea what Seung Gil is going through or what he had gone through in the past. Well... maybe he has a slight idea. Which brings him to his next point...

He sits next to him on the bed, placing everything on the nightstand. "You told me to read what was in the notebook last night." He notices how Seung Gil tenses, how he stops typing. "I... I didn't know." He whispers. 

"Didn't know what?" He responds, and while his voice is level, it's obvious he's uncomfortable.

"That you were abused as a child." 

Seung Gil doesn't respond. The silence hangs thick between them and when he turns to look at him, he notices the tears pooling in Seung Gil's eyes. Nervously he reaches over to place a hand on his shoulder. He hasn't really seen Seung Gil get emotional before, not until a few nights ago when he burned his hand. But it hadn't been like this. It's almost like watching a glass vase fall to the ground, seeing his shoulders slump and his hands cover his face. Chris feels like he's made a mistake by bringing it up to him. He should apologize, he tells himself, but how does one apologize for that? He nervously wraps his arms around him and as Seung Gil lets out a shaky sob, his own heart breaks.

He holds him for a while, letting Seung Gil cry as long as he needs to. Chris wonders how long he's kept that in, how long he's been in denial over it and how difficult it must have been to keep it to himself, to not have anyone to talk to when it was happening. Maybe he was too young to understand, to know how to explain it to anybody. His mother and father are so devout, he probably couldn't bring himself to tell them. 

Chris helps him book the ticket, even going out of his way to spot him a couple extra dollars, and he helps him sneak out of the house to get to the airport. They both know that anyone else would be hesitant to let him go anywhere, but they know exactly what’s at stake. The fact that Chris and Phichit had seen a physical manifestation of the demon only shows that he’s getting stronger and stronger. As Seung Gil is about to get out of the car and head into the airport, he breathes a small sigh.

“Be careful, okay?”

“I will be.” Seung Gil responds, but the smile they exchange doesn’t do much to ease the tension. The Korean gets out of the car and disappears inside. 

***

Seung Gil never did do well with crowds, and airports always made him anxious. This one is no exception. He keeps his head down as he walks, ignoring the people around him screaming in French and English. The last time he was here, he was leaving Quebec, not entering. It’s uncomfortable, to say the least, and if he had a choice, he would be marching himself back onto that plane. 

But it isn’t up to him. 

As painful as it may be, he needs to find JJ. Even if he has a sinking feeling in his stomach every time he thinks about how JJ knew about what he was going through long before he told him, this is a matter of forgiveness.

He slows to a stop, blinking. Forgiveness. That might be what ends all of this, and yet… he doesn’t want to forgive anybody. After all, why should he? His childhood ended far too soon, and for all he knows, the man responsible was never punished and the one person he trusted to protect him chose not to. The high road, the good, _Catholic_ thing to do would be to forgive. But Seung Gil sees no reason to. If anything, he wants the two to suffer just as badly as he had to. His hands ball into fists and he inhales sharply, his cheeks hot with embarrassment and rage. He’s always been so _painfully_ passive, keeping quiet for Father Mathieu just like he was told to and following JJ around like a lost puppy. 

He loves him so much it hurts. And that’s what’s making it even more difficult and confusing. If he loves him, why does he feel like shrugging it off and letting JJ suffer forever? Why is he contemplating showing up to the hospital and fucking smothering him with a pillow? _What’s even stopping him?_ If JJ didn’t help him in his time of need, why the ever-loving fuck should he? 

The feeling of someone brushing against his shoulder is what snaps him out of it. These thoughts, Seung Gil realizes, aren’t his own. He’s been violent towards himself recently, but never was he ever hostile towards others. 

He edges past everyone, making his way to a cab. But he doesn’t ask to be taken to JJ right away. 

*** 

Churches are his least favorite places. But this one is different. Standing on these steps is enough to make him weak in the knees. He’s stood on these stairs plenty of times, weeping quietly and waiting for his ride home. Seung Gil wonders why it’s come to this, why he had to come all the way back here to a place that causes him nothing but pain. As much as it hurts, he knows this won’t end with him finding JJ in some hospital room and declaring his love for him like some kind of Disney movie. Maybe he needs closure, maybe coming back here will give him clues. As he places his hand on the doors, he hears someone behind him sniffle. 

There’s a child sitting on the stairs, hunched over, shivering, and Seung Gil suddenly feels like he really shouldn’t be here. 

“Hey,” His voice comes out only as a shaky, uneasy whisper. “You must be cold. Um, are you okay?” He steps forward and places a hand on the little one’s shoulders. The child glances up at him and the dark, tear-filled eyes he finds staring back at him are familiar. Seung Gil notices it’s because they’re his own. He staggers towards the door, but the image of his young self disappears just as quickly as it had manifested. 

He pulls the double doors open out of panic, throwing himself inside. Out of habit he dips his fingers in the bowl of holy water, and it stings. The light coming through the stained glass windows he had stared at so many times hurts to the point of where he feels like he might pass out. It’s all so telling. In this hypothetical battle with the demon, he’s losing. And he's losing fast.

He hears footsteps and glances up, but he’s not happy with who he sees.

Father Mathieu, save for a few more wrinkles, looks just about the same. He wears that friendly, peaceful expression just like he always had, that gentle smile he gave everyone that immediately relieved him of any suspicion. The way he’s looking at Seung Gil is confused at first, he’s obviously concerned as to why someone burst through the doors so quickly on a Tuesday afternoon, but once their eyes meet, Father Mathieu gets it.

“Seung Gil Lee.” His name rolls off the older man’s tongue so pleasantly, as if he’s greeting an old acquaintance rather than the child he spent years torturing. “You look well.” 

“Do I?” Seung Gil snaps. “You’d think years of heavy drinking and drug abuse to cope with what you used to do to me might fuck with my appearance. But I relish the compliment.” 

The silence that follows is awkward, and the priest visibly tenses. “I don’t have any idea what you’re going on about. Let’s go to my office and catch up, you know you were always my favorite. I was devastated when your family moved so suddenly.” His voice is strained and he shifts his weight between his feet, avoiding Seung Gil’s gaze. 

“Oh, I bet you were. Must have been hard for you. I’m sure I can’t even imagine what you went through.” He hisses, hands clenching again at his sides. “Yeah, let’s go to your office, I sure would love to catch up with you. I could start unzipping my pants now if you want, just to save some time.” Seung Gil’s words drip with sarcasm and venom, and if looks could kill, the man in front of him would have dropped dead the second their eyes met. 

The priest doesn’t respond, only grabs his hand and practically drags him back. The walk is familiar, and the dread coiling in the pit of his stomach is exactly as he remembers it. Father Mathieu closes the door behind him, turning to Seung Gil slowly and slapping that charming, warm smile back on his face. “You grew up well. Very handsome, I always knew you would be. So tell me, Seung Gil, what brings you back to Quebec?” 

_It’s almost like he’s mocking me._ Seung Gil thinks as the man in front of him tries to make small talk. His office is exactly the same, and he’s obviously still living comfortably, probably feeling no guilt at all. Seung Gil takes a step back and takes a deep breath in. It’s been years since he’s been in this room. The smell of the older man’s cologne, however, makes him feel like he was in here just yesterday.

“Why did you do that to me?” He asks bluntly. 

“Do what?”

“You know exactly what I’m talking about. Why did you do it?” 

Father Mathieu stares blankly before opening a drawer and tugging out a box of cookies. “Here, you used to love these. Remember?”

“I’m not a kid anymore and bribing me with cookies isn’t going to keep me quiet. Save it. I asked you a question, now answer it. Why did you do it?” 

The older man breathes an exasperated sigh. “What, do you want money or something? What do you want?” His voice cracks and a smile tugs at the corners of Seung Gil’s lips as he takes a step closer to him. “Don’t, Seung Gil. Stop looking at me like that. Come on, have a seat. Just let me look at you, we can talk this out.”

“What is there to talk about?” Before he can even stop himself, his hand shoots forward and tightens around the priest’s throat. Surprisingly, he’s able to hold the man against the wall with almost no effort. He knows exactly who’s giving him this strength, and instead of feeling nervous or guilty, he loves it. This is a feeling he’s looked for in ziplock bags of powder, in prescription pills, at the bottom of hard liquor bottles. The man struggles against him and Seung Gil feels laughter bubble up inside of his chest.

“No, no no no. You… you’re not Seung Gil. You’re not the… the gentle little boy I c-cared about so deeply.” The man gasps, slamming his eyes shut. 

Seung Gil rolls his eyes. “That won’t work. You didn’t care about me at all. If you had, you would have let me be a child like I was supposed to be. You ruined my life, and so I’m going to take yours away. Right here.” His grip slowly tightens.“You never did tell me what sin I had committed that warranted all of that. All you said was that God told you to. Now, of course, I don’t believe in sins or a God. Not after I suffered for so long. But if there is one, I doubt he would have asked you to do that to anybody. And maybe I just don’t understand the nuances of religion, but I don’t see how that could be a suitable punishment for a kid.”

_Stop it._ In the back of his mind, he begs himself to let go. This isn’t him. _This is what the demon wants. If you kill him, that’s another soul he gets to take. Snap out of it…_

His hand suddenly falls back to his side and he stands there, silent as Father Mathieu gasps for air and slides down the wall to sit on the floor. The room is deathly quiet, and the shaky breaths the priest takes are enough to fill him with pure guilt. 

“I’m sorry.” He manages to rasp out. “That… that wasn’t me. I don’t have control over myself anymore… my body isn’t mine. My thoughts aren’t mine. I need your help.” Seung Gil drops to his knees, finding himself at eye-level with the breathless man in front of him. 

Father Mathieu stares at him, obviously in complete disbelief. “All I’ve ever done is help you.” He snaps.

“Listen to me.” Seung Gil begs, pulling his knees to his chest. “I… I did something wrong. I… I contacted a demon, okay? With a ouija board. It was supposed to just be for fun. It was messing around in my head at first, but it’s starting to get stronger and I’m seeing it even when I’m awake… it keeps showing me what you did to me and it’s trying to hurt me and JJ. You remember JJ? Jean Jacques Leroy?” His voice is desperate and he starts to rock himself slowly to calm himself down. 

He buries his face in his knees once his eyes sting with fresh tears. “JJ is in a coma and the demon is using his body to get me to do things because it knew I would trust him since he’s familiar. I don’t know what’s real and what isn’t. Sometimes something will happen and I’ll wake up to find it’s just a dream. But then that realization will have been a dream too. It’s able to get me to hurt myself, and now it’s making me want to hurt others. Please. I don’t know what to do.” He whimpers.

The priest stares at him for a moment before crawling over and tilting Seung Gil’s head up. “Of course this has something to do with JJ.” He says, staring at Seung Gil's face as if he's memorizing all of his features. “The demon’s using JJ because it’s just as aware of your sick feelings for him as I was. It knows all about how you stared at him, how you obviously lusted for him, and that is your biggest sin, Seung Gil Lee. You only have yourself to blame for this. And yet you spent years denying it, telling me you weren’t guilty of anything. I, being a man of God, was so set on helping you, but you were always so ungrateful and so stubborn. You had such a precious little face, it was easy for me to want to take care of you and save you, but demon or no demon, you’ve been consumed by evil from the start, but you mistakenly embraced it as love.” He lets go of his face. 

Seung Gil stares at him, his body hunched and trembling as the priest moves to stand up. 

“Nevertheless… I’ll help you. And maybe you’ll finally understand what a righteous man I am, to continue to dedicate my time to you, my angel.” He shrugs, his tone of voice softening with the term of endearment. Seung Gil remembers exactly why he hates that pet-name now. “You used a ouija board, you said. Did you end the conversation? Did you move the planchet to ‘goodbye?'”

Seung Gil’s eyes widen and desperately he racks his brain for some sort of memory that might soothe his nerves. They hadn’t closed out the discussion. It ended with a light shattering and the planchet making infinity signs on the board. “...No.” He whispers nervously. 

“Then of course this demon is getting stronger. Of course it’s manifesting physically and manipulating you so easily. You left the door open.” 

“Well, wh-what am I supposed to do?” Seung Gil stammers, choking on his tears. 

Father Mathieu turns back to him. “Isn’t it obvious?” He reaches down, carding his fingers through Seung Gil’s hair slowly, just as he always had when he wanted to get Seung Gil to shut up. “You close it.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See note at the beginning if you didn't already. Let me know your thoughts.


	21. viginti unus

The letters jotted down look sloppy, but Seung Gil concludes that it will have to do. He gazes at the makeshift ouija board and inhales sharply as Father Mathieu places a candle on the desk and sits down so they’re facing each other. The priest has made it clear he won’t participate in the seance, but he would remain in the room in case. It’s the first time Seung Gil has felt comfortable with his presence, maybe because he knows what he’s about to contact is far more dangerous. The flame flickers and Seung Gil watches the light play off Father Mathieu’s face. 

After taking a deep breath, he closes his eyes to prepare himself, but when he opens them, he finds that Father Mathieu is no longer in front of him. Instead, the seat is empty. “Hello?” He asks, looking around, but he’s alone and the planchette moves: “Hello.” 

“What’s your name?” He asks, making sure he has the right spirit. 

“ You wouldn't be able to pronounce my real name. I go by Jean Jacques though.” He hears JJ’s voice, just as he had the first time he asked the demon when it first physically manifested. He shakes his head, staring at the motionless planchet. “I don’t need that board to talk to you, you should know that by now.”

In Father Mathieu’s place sits a good-looking, white-haired man with red eyes. Seung Gil flinches, but his scream is caught in his throat. “I’ll be asking you the questions this time. What brings you to Quebec? More specifically… to this place in particular? Just days ago you didn’t remember anything about it. Suddenly craving some Catholic cock from your good pal Father Clement Mathieu?” He leans forward, eyes twinkling. Seung Gil only quickly shakes his head.

“Closure,” is all he manages to squeak out. 

“Dumbass.” The demon chirps, sitting back again. “Wanting closure. You think that’s gonna help? You think he’s sorry? Even a couple minutes ago, he blamed you for all that happened to you. Closure my ass, Seung Gil. You missed him, huh? You’re lonely and you know he’s the only one who still wants you. Your friends all hate you, they think you’re annoying and begging for attention that your mom and dad were hesitant to give you once you denounced religion and started drinking instead of going to class.”

Seung Gil shakes his head, opening his mouth to speak though no noise comes out. “You want attention so badly, you flew all the way up here just for him. You really are shameless.” The demon continues to taunt him.

“I’m here for JJ.” He says, his voice cracking.

The candlelight wavers and suddenly he finds himself face-to-face with JJ. “You shouldn’t have wasted your time. What makes you think I’d want you here? Pathetic. I haven’t talked to you since we were fourteen, you think you’re special? Hell, if I wanted to talk to you, I would made an effort. It’s been years, and I never tried to find you. I don’t care about you. If I had… maybe I would have told someone about what Father Mathieu was doing to you. But I didn’t.” He shrugs and places one foot on the desk. 

Seung Gil stares at the apparition. It’s hard, hearing all these things he had assumed, but he also knows this isn’t the real JJ and while it stings to hear this, he needs to shut this down and get his life back. “You’re not JJ.” He says clearly, inhaling sharply and looking down at the planchet. All he needs to do is move it to “goodbye” and the nightmare is over? It seems too good to be true. He inhales, beginning to move it, but icy hands he knows he’s felt before wrap around his wrists. The demon is back in front of him, glaring. 

“So, you think saying goodbye is going to save you. Seung Gil, you never fail to impress me with how fucking dumb you are. You can try if you want, see how far you get. But bad news, you’ll never actually be able to get rid of me. I’ve gotten all I need to stay strong and healthy in your mind for an eternity. Watch this.” Suddenly Seung Gil’s hands fly to his neck, gripping hard until he’s cutting off his own air supply. “I could kill you right here. And I could make it look like a suicide. But you’re so sad all the time, I think you might want to do that yourself at some point. And I’m cool with waiting and watching until that happens. You’re so weak-minded, all it would take is one bad day to send you over the edge.”

Seung Gil struggles to breathe, tries desperately to remove his own hands from his throat, but they won’t budge. If anything, they tighten and suddenly he can’t even attempt to gasp anymore. “Look at you. How sad. You’ve played the victim all your life when it’s all your fault these things happened to you. You chose not to tell anyone the truth about the local hero, you chose to let it keep happening. Tell me, did you like it? Did you like to close your eyes and think about JJ?” 

“Shut up! Shut the fuck up!” Seung Gil’s hands slam suddenly slam back down against the table. His chest rises and falls rapidly and everything is spinning. Desperately his hands fumble for the planchet as it starts to make those figure eights again. 

“Well, seeing how stubborn you are, I guess… I guess I could end it for you now… But I’ll let you feel it one last time. Because you deserve it.” The demon hisses and Seung Gil’s head snaps up to see a much younger version of Father Mathieu there. Seung Gil glances around, noticing how much bigger everything seems. He’s wearing a white button-down shirt, the one he had always hated that his mother insisted on. His tastes those cookies the priest had always bribed him with on his lips, as well as the faint, bitter flavor of red wine. The man’s hands grasp at the collar of his shirt and Seung Gil stands, shoving his hands away.  

He won’t do this again, he won’t let it happen. As a child, intimidated by Father Mathieu’s influence and the pure confusion and embarrassment he felt, it was easy to keep quiet like he was told. He’s better now, he’s stronger now. 

And he doesn’t deserve it. He never did. He’s spent years feeling so guilty and ashamed, though he had no idea why. He didn’t know what he’d done, and now, being in this room with every piece coming together, he understands that what happened to him all those years ago wasn’t his fault. It was never his fault.

He doesn’t realize his eyes stinging with tears, nor does he notice when they start to spill. It’s cathartic, and he doesn’t feel scared as the figure in front of him moves closer. No, Seung Gil wasn’t to blame. If anyone should have to suffer, it’s the person who exploited someone helpless, someone who used their position of power to abuse an innocent rather than to protect them. Seung Gil could hold that weight forever. He could let his sheer contempt for his abuser fester in his soul and rot him from the inside out and continue to feed the demon leeching off his internalized hatred and rage. 

It’s okay to hurt. But to continue to poison himself with wrath and malice and expect someone else to suffer from the anger he feels does nothing. 

“I forgive you.” He says, and it’s quiet at first, partially because it’s the hardest thing he’s ever had to say. He looks up, but no one is in front of him. The candles flicker and he reaches for the planchet. While the demon isn’t visible, he can hear his heavy breathing and the weak, icy grip of his hands attempting to stop him from moving it. And so Seung Gil pushes it with all the strength he can muster. 

***

Seung Gil wakes up to hands desperately tapping his cheeks. Father Mathieu sits in front of him, obviously panicking. Once their eyes meet, he breathes a sigh of relief. “You weren’t breathing. I don’t know what happened but… after you made contact you just… became unresponsive. I attempted to perform an exorcism, but you weren’t responding to anything. You weren’t even blinking.”

He listens to the priest, attempting to make sense of what’s going on. “I need to find JJ.” He rasps out. “I need to talk to him.”

“You shouldn’t be going anywhere. You’re bleeding…” Father Mathieu’s eyes widen as the other moves and suddenly, Seung Gil feels it. He looks down at his wrists, feeling the warm liquid dripping into his palms and onto the carpet. For a moment, the two are silent. It’s clear that neither of them inflicted these wounds, but they know what they have to do and before Seung Gil can even weigh the pros and cons, he’s in the passenger seat of Father Mathieu’s car speeding towards the hospital as the man whispers prayers to himself.

This wasn’t how he thought this would go. He thought he’d be at the church for ten minutes at the most, then move on to the hospital to find JJ. Never did he think he’d be going there for his own injuries. The two pull up to the front of the hospital and he notices that Father Mathieu is crying.

“Go, quickly. I’m sure you don’t want to spend any more time with me, so I won’t follow you, but please. Hurry, Seung Gil.”

“I have something to say.” Seung Gil murmurs after pushing the door open. “If this is the last time I see you, I want you to know something.”

“There’s no time, Seung Gil! You have to hurry, it can wait!”

“No, it can’t.” Seung Gil says, inhaling sharply. He’s feeling awfully lightheaded, but he knows he needs to say it. Their eyes meet, and while it still terrifies him and hurts him, he says it once more so the priest can hear: 

“I forgive you.” 

He hopes Father Mathieu’s God is merciful and forgives him too.

***

Seung Gil isn’t sure where he is, but he isn’t afraid. A light breeze ruffles his hair, he feels sand in between his toes as well as cold water that comes in waves. The beach is empty, and the sky is a myriad of vibrant colors. It’s the first time in a while he feels genuinely at peace, he notices, and a smile twitches the corners of his lips. Somewhere, someone calls his name. It’s a voice he recognizes immediately and he turns to get a good look at him.

JJ looks tired, but he looks content. The white shirt he’s wearing is only halfway buttoned, dark hair fluttering in the wind. They approach each other slowly at first, but after a few steps, they’re sprinting towards each other and grinning from ear to ear. 

He’s been in JJ’s arms before, but it’s never felt so perfect and reassuring. He cups JJ’s cheeks and their lips crash together. He can’t tell if he tastes their tears of pure joy mingling or if it’s the salty air from the ocean and his lips move to press kisses to every inch of JJ’s face, but he definitely tastes bubblegum toothpaste. 

“Where are we?” He asks tearfully once they pull back to catch their breath. 

“You’re unconscious, too.” JJ answers. “But we won’t be for long. We’re alive. It might not feel like it, but we are. And once we wake up… you’ll find me, right? Or I’ll find you? Don’t leave the hospital until we meet up, okay?” He inhales sharply as he gazes down at Seung Gil, pulling him back into his arms. “I saw all that you did back there. Because the demon had full control over my body, I… I had to witness everything he did to you. To be honest, I didn’t know how you could overcome it. And even now… I’m not sure what did it. All I know is that suddenly, I can move without him telling me to. I don’t hear him anymore.” 

“It could have been anything. It could have been me realizing it wasn’t my fault, it could have been Mathieu’s exorcism, it could have been me forgiving him…”

“You actually forgave him? Did he even apologize?”

“No.” 

The two are silent, but it doesn’t feel awkward. “I think today you’ll wake up, JJ.” Seung Gil says as he takes his hand and laces their fingers. They exchange soft smiles, a few more kisses. For hours they sit together feeling as though they’re the only people in this world, but JJ eventually fades from his view. Seung Gil knows where he is, and he isn’t worried one bit. They’ll see each other soon. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Second to last chapter, friends <3


End file.
